Down A Crooked Path
by mchriste22
Summary: Some loose ends should be burned. Sequel to Self-Inflicted Wounds
1. Kiss the Past Goodbye

AN: Thanks to my beta, you're getting to read this a whole five days earlier than originally planned.

So the sequel is here! Thanks to everybody who encouraged me to continue the story I started in Self-Inflicted Wounds. I'm really excited about this one. I wouldn't say that SIW is required reading to follow this sequel, but I think you'll enjoy it more if you do because I'm building on the world I created.

I'm going to tell you upfront that Down A Crooked Path won't be the sprawling ensemble piece that SIW became. All of the players will be back in significant ways, but DACP is Delena focused. And it's actually going to stay that way. LOL

My post script on SIW's epilogue scared some readers enough for one of them to request that I let Damon and Elena be happy for a few chapters before everything goes to shit. Welp, here you go. This is probably the fluffiest thing I've ever written. ;p

I seriously can't wait to hear what you think, so please leave a reply. It'll make my day!

* * *

_**It wasn't until she was hurtling through the air, falling towards the rocks below, that he knew he was going to be too late.**_

Chapter One – Kiss the Past Goodbye

Elena Gilbert watched the mile markers count down the remaining distance to Mystic Falls as they flew by along the side of the highway. Knowing the long road trip was almost over and buzzing with anticipation, she couldn't wrap her brain around the notion that she'd be home in less than an hour.

A home she hadn't been back to in almost two years.

She'd left Mystic Falls for Atlanta the fall after her senior year and, for one reason or another, had never made it back. Whether it was flying or driving, the trip had always seemed too cumbersome for an average weekend, especially considering how quickly she'd filled her life with classes and work. Freshman year, Ric and Jeremy had visited her for Christmas and she'd spent spring break with Caroline and Bonnie in Cozumel. The summer between freshman and sophomore year, she'd taken an internship with an independent publishing house that had dominated her time, making vacations impossible. Sophomore year had been much like the year before, except it had been her turn to visit Jeremy at college for the holidays and spring break had been spent in Costa Rica. Immediately after finals, she'd picked up her internship where she'd left off.

It hadn't been until the middle of July, when she'd come to the bittersweet realization that two years had passed. Her parents were gone and her friends scattered – there was no longer anything tying her to her hometown. Caroline's invitation to a Labor Day reunion party at the Lockwood estate had come at the perfect time and Elena had immediately accepted.

Convincing Damon to join her, however, had been a lot harder than she'd expected.

A bright green sign appeared on the edge of the horizon, growing larger until it breezed by the passenger window. Elena drew a deep breath, stretching her arm across the back of the seat to run her fingers through Damon's hair. Studying his profile, she smiled. "Only sixteen more miles."

"I'm giddy with anticipation," he deadpanned, keeping his eyes firmly on the road ahead. The first time she'd mentioned the reunion, she'd been prepared for an initial refusal, but Damon had surprised her with how staunchly he'd opposed the idea. Mystic Falls hadn't been his home for over one hundred and fifty years, he'd argued, and it would take more than two years for him to start feeling homesick.

Eventually, she'd changed his mind, but they'd had more than one impressive fight over the subject. In the end, she'd had to pull out the big guns, simply asking him to go as a favor to her.

"Ric is going to be happy to see you," she said, grateful to see the smirk that curved his lips.

"Uh huh," he said, raising a brow as he kept his eyes on the road.

"And I know Jeremy's missed you," she added as he reached up and took her hand.

"We're fifteen miles away, Elena," he pointed out, offering her a glance as he laced his fingers with hers. "You can quit sucking up."

Elena grinned as she slid across the bench seat of the Camaro to lean her head against his shoulder. "I'm glad you're with me," she said, craning her neck to catch his gaze. Those intense blue eyes were still able to make her breathless, even after three years. "Thank you."

Damon looked at her for a long moment, a wry grin playing on his lips. Shaking his head, he turned his attention back to the road and brought her hand to his lips to brush a kiss against the soft skin. Keeping their hands linked, he said. "You knew I'd give in."

"I did not," she protested. "With all the whining you did, I thought I was going to have to go by myself."

Damon scoffed. "Like I'd let you go back to Mystic Falls alone."

"Let me?" she repeated, bristling slightly as she lifted her head to glare at him. "You wouldn't _let _me go on my own? What were you going to do, lock me in our bedroom?"

He shrugged, the grin turning rakish as he wiggled his brows lasciviously. "I was thinking I'd tie you to the bed, but that works, too."

"You're such an ass," she accused, settling against him so he wouldn't have the satisfaction of seeing her blush. Beneath the sarcasm, she knew he was serious and she could only fault him up to a point. In the two years that they'd lived together, he'd been there every time she'd woken up screaming from nightmares filled with the horrors that she'd endured in her hometown. She shivered slightly, hoping Damon would attribute it to the open car window rather than any sign of apprehension on her part. No matter what had happened, Mystic Falls was still her home. Shoving the dark thoughts aside, she said. "Caroline says it's stayed quiet these past two years. I don't think one weekend is going to kill me."

"You barely got out of that town alive," he reminded her, squeezing her hand as the top of the Mystic Falls water tower became a tiny speck on the horizon. "I don't know why you're so excited to go back."

* * *

_Elena turned abruptly into the driveway, the tires of the SUV screeching on the asphalt as she came to a halt. Leaping out of the vehicle, she raced toward the Salvatore house and threw open the front door causing it to crash into the woodwork as it bounced off of the opposite wall. Her brown eyes crackled with anger as she slammed it shut and strode into the living room, yelling for her boyfriend. _

"_Damon!" _

_He wasn't in there, but his car was outside, so she knew he was home. On any other day she would have made a cursory effort to try to find him somewhere within the vast house before taking advantage of his super-sensitive hearing and calling for him to come to her. Today, however, she was too pissed off to bother. _

"_Damon!" Elena cried again after all of five seconds had passed. Tossing her keys onto the coffee table, she yanked the single sheet of thick paper from her back pocket and unfolded it. "I know you're here," she added, staring at the black and white words that had pushed her over the edge._

Dear Ms. Gilbert, we are pleased to inform you that your application to Emory University has been accepted…

_She scowled at the rest, curling her fingers into a fist around the official acceptance letter. Shaking her head, she blinked away angry tears as indignation propelled her from one side of the room to the other. The letter had been waiting for her after school, innocently mixed in with bills and junk mail. Emory was her first choice college and the acceptance letter had been more than a dream come true –it had been a miracle of epic proportions._

How could he do this? _she wondered, struggling to keep a grip on her emotions. She didn't want to cry in front of him. Crying was weak and she needed to be angry – she needed to yell and scream and make sure her boyfriend of nearly a year knew – in no uncertain terms – that when she asked him not to do something, she meant it. "Damon, I swear to god, if you don't get your ass down here, I'll-."_

_She stopped and opened her eyes as some sixth sense alerted her to his presence. Turning slowly, she found him leaning against the wall, arms crossed, as a bemused expression played over his features. Forgetting her anger for a split second, she marveled over the fact that this ridiculously perfect specimen of the male species was actually hers. _How does he manage to make black look so damn good?

_No._ No! _He was_ not _going to be able to weasel his way out of this one with charm and smooth words._

_Damon used her silence as an invitation, taking a few steps toward her and raising a brow. "Go on," he said, his lips curving into a wicked smirk. "I'd love to know what you-."_

"_You bastard," she hissed, bristling at his arrogance. Striding up to him, she poked a shaking finger at his chest and demanded. "How could you?" _

_The humor drained from his expression as he momentarily lowered his gaze to his chest before sliding back up to her face. "How could I what?" _

"_I asked you not to," she said, ignoring his question in her haste to get out all of the angry words she'd been rehearsing on the way over. "I asked you and you swore you wouldn't, Damon. You_ swore_._"

"_Swore I wouldn't_ what_?" he asked, a hint of frustration bleeding into his tone as he reached for her in concern. "Elena, what the hell are you talking about?"_

_Jerking out of his grasp, she slapped the folded, crumpled sheet of paper against his chest. "Read that," she ordered, bracing her hands on her hips. "Even though you already know what it says."_

_He opened the letter, shooting her more than one wary, apprehensive look before scanning the short, but direct contents. She watched him closely, wondering how he'd play it when he realized the game was over. Would he feign innocence? Immediately confess? Would he be mad that she didn't fall all over herself to thank him for his_ help_? She clenched her jaw so tight her teeth ground together. _

"_You got in," he said a moment later, breaking a piece of her heart as he looked at her with obvious pride and some bewilderment._ So, he's going for innocence_, __she thought as her shoulders sagged_. Great_. __Damon moved toward her. "Congratulations, Elena, that's amazing."_

_She backed away, blinking furiously against the mutinous tears brought on by his sincerity, ignoring his well-wishing because it wasn't deserved. She'd worked hard her senior year to make up for the abysmal grades she'd turned in as a junior, but she'd barely managed to pull her GPA out of the gutter, let alone to a level that would allow her to compete with the type of student applying to Emory. She never would have sent in the application if Damon hadn't snuck an illicit peak at her essay and threatened to put it in the mail himself if she didn't have the balls to go through with it. Swayed more by his belief in her, than by the threat, she'd sent it in the next day. _

_How could he be so sincere when_ compulsion _was behind that letter? __The compulsion that he'd promised he wouldn't use._

"_That's right," she said, fighting the disappointment and hurt that was threatening the strength of her anger. She wondered when he'd decided to sneak down to Emory and compel the admissions staff. Dully, she echoed his words. "I got in."_

"_Okay, I don't get it," Damon said, shaking his head as he held the letter aloft. He approached her cautiously, like a hunter nearing wounded prey, and stopped a few feet away from her. "You've been going on and on about this school for months, what's with the tears? I thought you'd be happy." _

"_I would have been happy," she replied, blinking him back into focus as her traitorous emotions spiraled further out of her control. "I would have been overjoyed if I believed for one second that I deserved it."_

"_You _do _deserve it, Elena," he insisted. "After all the shit you've been through, you deserve it more than anyone."_

"_Is that why you did it?" she asked, balking at the implied charity. "Because I _deserved _some reward for surviving the vampires and the werewolves and the Originals? Is that why you refused to do what I asked and let me get into college on my own. _Without_ your help." _

"My _help? I didn't help. I didn't do anything, you wouldn't even let me read your…" he trailed off, something in her expression forcing the pieces into place as his entire demeanor changed. Immediately, he straightened his spine and lifted his chin. "Oh. I see. You think I…what? Compelled someone on the admission's staff to overlook the fact that you failed half your classes your junior year?" _

"_I know you did," she insisted, trying not to react to the way he'd so cruelly spelled out her shortcomings. She hadn't expected to emerge from this fight unscathed. _

"_Oh, you _know_, __huh?" he sneered, refolding the acceptance letter and smoothing out the rumpled edges. "How?"_

"_Because Emory was a fantasy," she explained, bizarrely grateful to him for lashing out. It made it easier for her to respond in kind. "With my grades, the only way I could have gotten in is if I had help."_

"_So, naturally, you assumed that I did something," he scoffed, shaking his head as he held the letter toward her and let it fall to the floor when she wasn't fast enough to take it. Turning away from her, he made his way towards the bar. "Even though you explicitly asked me not to." _

"_What else am I supposed to think?" she cried, snatching the letter from the floor and gesturing with it like a weapon. "You said it yourself. I _failed_.__" _

"_Okay, fine," he said as he poured himself a drink. "Let's say I compelled someone to get you into Emory – even though I promised I wouldn't. When did I do it?" _

"_What?" _

"_When did this happen, Elena?" he asked, enunciating each word as he kept her trapped in his indignant gaze. _

_She blinked as a tendril of doubt crept into her mind. Shoving it aside, she lifted a shoulder. "I sent the application in three months ago, you had plenty of time-."_

"_To take a road trip to Georgia? Really?" he replied, raising a mocking brow. "In the past three months, when have we been apart long enough for me to go down to Atlanta, find the right admissions officer, compel them to get you in and make it back without you noticing? That's at _least _a three day trip."_

_The tendril became a twinge as she tried to recall a time when they'd been apart for more than a day and realized she couldn't. "You-you're fast," she said, wincing at how ridiculous that sounded._

_Damon stared at her for a long, measured moment. "_That's _your answer? I'm fast?" he repeated derisively before shaking his head. "You can believe what you want, Elena, but this was all you. I didn't compel anyone."_

"_Then…you must have…bribed someone," she suggested weakly as the twinge became an insistent tug on her conscious. _

_He snorted, holding her gaze as he took a sip of his bourbon. "I thought we were past this." _

"_Past what?" _

_He set his mouth in a grim line of disappointment, leveling the words at her as he left the room. "Past you assuming the worst of me." _

"_Damon, that's not…" she protested, but there was no point. He was gone, the sound of his unnaturally soft footsteps fading quickly. After a moment of helpless indecision, she sank to the couch cushions, gingerly placing the acceptance letter on the coffee table as if it might explode and do further damage. In the silence, the tug shoved its way to the forefront of her mind to war with her convictions. A sour feeling rose up from her stomach to burn the back of her throat. _

Am I wrong?

_Her assumptions hadn't been unfounded. Damon did what he thought was best, regardless of anyone else. That was his style, his M.O. He'd warned her of that at different times and in different ways throughout the course of their relationship – even before they officially got together. _

"I didn't compel anyone."

_Denial, however, wasn't his style, and his echoed in her head, fueling her confusion and doubt. He always owned his actions, consequences be damned. Swallowing, she dropped her gaze to the folded letter as if it might hold the answer. _

"When in the past three months have we been apart long enough…"

"_We haven't," she whispered, bracing her elbows on her knees and dropping her head into her hands. She still couldn't accept that she'd gotten into Emory on her own, but it wasn't physically possible for Damon to have done what she'd accused him of. His denial rang truer than her conviction and she groaned as she realized she believed him. There were some lines that he wouldn't cross, and going against her wishes after looking her in the eye and promising her he wouldn't was one of them. Deep down, past all of her self-doubt, she'd known all along._ Shit. _"I got in."_

Dear Ms. Gilbert, we are pleased to inform you that your application to Emory University has been accepted…

_The black type on ivory paper accused her even as it congratulated her. Elena tried to muster up some joy and excitement, but all she felt was overwhelmingly stupid._ God, I'm such an idiot.

_Rising hastily from the couch, she ran from the room. "Damon!" she called, checking each room as she worked her way through the first floor. One after another, the empty rooms added to her growing disgust with herself. Was he even still here? She hadn't heard footsteps on the stairs or a car starting in the driveway, but he could move so quietly and she wouldn't have blamed him for leaving her to stew with her own knee-jerk reactions._

_She opened the door to the library and found him sitting at the huge antique desk, poring over some papers. He didn't so much as lift his gaze as she entered, leaving Elena to watch him for a moment from the doorway. Her breath caught in her throat as she resisted the urge to run to him and immediately launch into a plea for forgiveness. He wouldn't appreciate the hysterics and she wanted to maintain what little dignity she had left._

_It wasn't much._

_Taking a deep breath, she cleared her throat. "Damon, I'm sorry." He glanced at her, but didn't respond, prompting an immediate need to fill the silence. Making her way slowly toward the desk, she attempted to explain herself. "I don't know why I thought you'd break your promise. I just…I_ really _didn't think I could get into Emory on my own. I still can't believe it, but…I_ do_believe you and we_ are _past it. I am so sor-."_

"_Elena," he interrupted, looking up as she snapped her mouth shut. His expression was unreadable as he stared at her for a long moment. The instinct to launch into another lengthy ramble was so strong, she had to bite her lip to fight it. Finally, he shrugged. "Apology accepted." _

_She blinked. _Apology accepted? _That's not how their fights worked. There was yelling and broken barware and slammed doors as one of them stormed away to cool off. "Thank…you?" she replied slowly as he returned his attention to the sheaf of papers. She'd expected relief upon receiving his forgiveness, but it hovered just out of reach. Tentatively, she skirted around the edge of the desk to his side and leaned against it, facing him. She knew it would be better to give him space, but she simply couldn't tear herself away. Curling her fingers around the lip of the desk, she asked. "What are you, um…looking at?" _

_Setting the papers on the blotter beside her hip, he leaned back in the huge leather chair and looked at her. "See for yourself." _

_Warily, she reached for the first page of the pile, her gaze darting between the desk and his stoic features. She scanned the first page, making it halfway through the technical jargon before she realized what she was reading. "Damon, this is..." She grabbed the rest of the stack, flipping through each one until she was convinced that they were all similar. She stared at him with wide, wondering eyes. "These are scholarship applications." _

"_Yes, they are," he agreed with a brief nod._

_Hopelessly confused, she asked. "Why are you looking at scholarship applications?"_

"_Did you win the lottery and not tell me?" he asked before apparently taking pity on her for her complete bewilderment. "You have to pay for college somehow and I figured - and based on that fight we just had I know I'm right - that you're not going to let me help. So, I did some research. You should have no problems getting most of these and you're a perfect candidate for financial aid."_

_Elena's cheeks burned as tears filled her eyes and this time, she didn't stop them from spilling down her cheeks. "Damon…," she began, searching for words that never came. She'd just accused him of breaking a promise to her - something he'd _never _done before - and rather than making her work for his forgiveness, he was acting like nothing had happened. Swallowing hard, she returned the applications to the desk and blinked at the tears clouding her vision. "I don't-I don't know what to say. I'm so sor-."_

"_Stop. No more apologies," he cautioned, rising from the chair and cradling her face between his palms. Wiping away the tracks of her tears, he said. "Not that I don't love it when you admit that you're wrong, but…you had a point."_

"_I did?" _

"_Compelling an admissions officer? Totally something I'd do," he admitted with a smirk before raising a brow and adding._ "If _I hadn't promised you I wouldn't. I know how to pick my battles. I'm not going to break my word over something I knew you could do without me."_

_Elena flushed again as she tried to bow her head and hide behind a curtain of hair, but Damon wasn't interested. Capturing her mouth, he kissed her slowly - the proper hello that she'd denied them both by her accusations. She melted into him, kissing him back with more passion than usual as her body strove to drive home her gratitude and how deeply she loved him. She wrapped her arms around him and buried her face in the crook of his neck when they came apart. _

I don't deserve you, _she thought as she brushed her lips over his skin. _Sometimes, I really, really don't deserve you.

"_So, what now?" he asked. _

"_What do you mean?" she asked, far too content in his arms to move._

"_Well, you got into Emory," he said, his lips brushing her ear. Hearing him say it made the reality of the acceptance letter sink in. She lifted her head, a wide grin curving her lips. His eyes flashed mischievously as he brushed her hair out of her face and asked. "How do you want to celebrate?" _

_Later that night, Elena wrapped an arm around Damon's neck and slipped between his body and the front door. Buzzed from too many tequila shots, she stood on her toes and pressed a heated kiss to his lips. His arm came easily around her waist as he kissed her back, pressing her against the wooden door while he fumbled for his keys._

"_Elena," he cautioned between kisses that tasted like the whiskey he'd been drinking. "I'm never going to get the door open if you keep distracting me."_

"_You mean there's something the big, bad vampire can't do?" she teased, arching her body against him from hip to chest. "I am_ shocked_._"

_Even in the dark, she could see his eyes widen at the challenge. A split-second later, the sound of splintering wood and wrenching metal filled the night and the door swung open behind her. If he hadn't had such a tight grip on her, she would have fallen right across the threshold. _

"_Did you just break the door?" she demanded with a laugh. _

"_It's my door," he shot back, closing it with his free hand and twisting the knob so that it stayed closed. Capturing her mouth for another long, scorching kiss, she was slightly dizzy when he added. "Besides, it's your fault. You dared me." _

_Elena gasped and playfully slapped his shoulder. "I would never do something like that." _

"_Right," he said dryly before she claimed his lips again. They made their way across the darkened foyer toward the stairs in an unhurried journey to his bedroom._ To his bed_, __she grinned into their kiss, her hands gripping the edges of his jacket and pushing it off his shoulders. He let it fall to the floor without pausing in their progress. _

_Earlier in the evening, Elena had sent out a mass text to her friends to meet her at the Grille for an impromptu celebration and miraculously, they'd all been able to attend. Ric had pretended not to notice when Damon compelled the bartender to give her, Bonnie, Jeremy, Tyler and Caroline whatever they asked for and they'd all toasted Elena's acceptance to Emory until the bar had closed. Even though it had been nearly a year since they'd defeated Klaus, an evening of normalcy was nearly as intoxicating as the alcohol they'd consumed. _

_It had been a perfect night and there was still more to come. _

_Slipping her hands between their bodies, Elena worked on the buttons of Damon's shirt. She'd exposed half of his perfectly chiseled chest before he decided her own leather jacket had to go. Feeling the combined heat of sexual tension, alcohol and too many layers of clothing, she helped him remove it. The jacket hit the bottom stair with a soft _plop_ and before she could resume undressing him, he had the hem of her shirt in his hands and was tugging it over her head. _

_The cold, unyielding wood of the newel post dug into her back as they stumbled into it at the base of the stairs. Content for the moment to explore each other there, she let her head fall back as he blazed a trail of kisses down the column of her throat. A moan of pleasure escaped her lips as he dragged his teeth over her throbbing pulse. His hands seemed to be everywhere, molding her body to his, but failing to get her close enough. She needed more. _

_Making quick work of the remaining buttons, Elena stripped his shirt over his shoulders and down his arms. Tossing it aside, she used the first step for leverage and launched herself into his arms. Wrapping her legs around his waist brought the intimacy she craved as the hard length of his arousal pressed against her throbbing center. _

_Damon muttered a curse before chuckling. "How do you expect me to get you upstairs when you pull shit like that?" _

"_You're a man of many talents," she replied, nipping at his bottom lip. He responded by kissing her again, his hands sliding down her bare back to cup her bottom. _

_She _really _needed to get rid of her pants._

_Despite protests to the contrary, Damon didn't seem to be in a hurry to get her up the long flight of stairs. He took his time tasting her, slowing things down so that the heat between them smoldered rather than blazed. Elena couldn't get enough. Being with him was always an adventure, always intense, but she loved it best when they came together like this - relaxed and unhurried. _

"_I'm going to miss this," he murmured, the rough caress of his voice dragging her out of her sexual reverie. "I'm going to miss you." _

_Instantly, her eyes flew open as the fire within her diminished by half. Touching his cheek, she frowned. "What do you mean miss me?"_

"_When you're off having the 'full college experience,'" he replied, using the phrase she'd uttered a thousand times in the past six months. Knowing how lucky she was to have a real shot at being a normal co-ed, she'd gone after the dream with gusto. _

_Somehow, it had never connected that Damon might not be there. _

"_I wouldn't want to cramp your style," he continued, lazily kissing her jaw and forcing her further out of her blissfully buzzed state as she tried to focus. Frowning, she threaded her fingers through his hair, urging him on even as her stomach twisted at the idea of leaving him behind. Damon was more than just her boyfriend, he was a part of her. Their connection was so deep it scared her at times. She'd always thought, always assumed that wherever she went, he'd be there._

_The idea that she might have been wrong made her nauseous._

_Oblivious to her distress, he continued talking. "Who brings their high school boyfriend to college? I know you wouldn't want me there, tagging along after you and keeping you from discovering yourself…preventing you from breaking free from the trappings of your home town." _

_Elena's frown deepened as his words sunk in. _Breaking free from the trappings of your home town? Discovering yourself? _Who the hell even talked like that? He sounded like some lame self-help book the school guidance counselor would peddle. _

_Realization dawned as she erupted into a fit of giggles. "You are so full of shit." _

"_Excuse me?" he asked, lifting his head from the crook of her neck and meeting her gaze with eyes far too wide and innocent to be believed. _

"_You had me for a second, but I know you," she said, narrowing her eyes at him as she traced his lips with the tip of her finger. "You can barely handle it when I drive myself to school without a chaperone. You really expect me to believe you'd let me move to Atlanta on my own? I'll bet you have a place picked out already," she added, immediately sure of the idea. Lifting a brow, she challenged him. "Tell me I'm wrong." _

_He held her gaze for a long moment, maintaining a look of wounded innocence so convincing that she almost doubted her convictions. She knew him well, but he was constantly surprising her. Maybe she'd overestimated her own intuitiveness on this one. Before she could find the words to backtrack, his lips curved into his familiar smug grin as his eyes sparked in the low light. "You're wrong," he said, obviously enjoying her shocked expression. After a moment, he shrugged and added. "I picked out three. I thought I'd let you decide which one you'd like best."_

_Elena let out a squeal of triumph before he could finish his sentence, kissing him in victory. "I _knew _it," she declared, tightening her legs around his waist as he began carrying her up the stairs. "I knew you'd find a place for us." _

"_It doesn't have to be for _us_," he said, explaining before she could interpret that as a sign he didn't want to come. "You're right, there's no fucking way I'm letting you that far out of my sight just so you can experience the wonders of frat parties and sleeping through your classes like a normal human being. However, there's no reason why you can't do the dorm thing and stay at my place when you feel like it." _

_Reaching the top of the stairs, he turned towards his room as the shadows grew deeper and hid his face from her. Months ago, she might have seen the wisdom in his idea of two separate living spaces. She was only eighteen, after all, and as much as she loved him and planned on being with him forever, there was something very permanent about living under the same roof. She'd have no escape, no place to run and catch her breath when they fought or things just got so intense she'd need space to remember where he ended and she began. _

_Was she really ready to _live _with Damon Salvatore? _

_Carrying her over the threshold into his bedroom, he nudged the door shut with his foot out of habit even though nobody else lived in the house anymore. In silence, he brought her to the bed, laying her on her back against the comforter and immediately joining her because she had no intention of letting him go. In a bid for more time to think, she kissed him, sighing into his mouth at the slow, languid pace. _

"_You know," she murmured as his touch burned a trail down the side of her body and across her stomach. She felt his nimble fingers at the button of her jeans and helped him ease them over her hips. "I've always liked the idea of having a roommate." _

"_Yeah?" he replied noncommittally, fully intent on the task of getting her naked. _

"_Mmmhmm," she replied, kicking her jeans off of the edge of the bed before placing a hand on his cheek and making him look at her. "But communal bathrooms? Total deal breaker. I don't want to fight thirty other girls for the shower every morning." _

_He watched her carefully, a knowing gleam in his eye. "That does sound rough." _

"_I think I could handle sharing with one person," she acknowledged, pretending to think about it while her grin grew wider. "Someone who wouldn't hog all the hot water."_

"_How about somebody who'd share?" he suggested, reaching behind her to deftly unhook her bra. _

_Elena pressed a kiss to the hollow at the base of his throat as she helped him get the scrap of fabric out of their way. "I like the way you think, Salvatore."_

* * *

As they passed the sign on the edge of town welcoming them to Mystic Falls, Elena sat up and looked eagerly out the window. The town hadn't changed much during the eighteen years she'd lived there, but she studied the scenery with rapt attention nonetheless, searching for signs of the passage of time. Relief and disappointment coursed through her as Damon drove through the town square.

"Everything looks the same," she murmured, not knowing what she'd expected.

"It's only been two years," he reminded her, turning off of Main Street and onto the residential street that would take them to her childhood home. At Elena and Jeremy's insistence, Ric continued to live there and they'd decided to stay there rather than opening up the Salvatore house. "If you want to see change, try staying away for a few decades."

"When was the last time you came through town?" Elena asked as she settled back into the passenger seat and clasped her hands to keep from fidgeting. "Before the last time, I mean."

"The 50s," he replied.

"You were gone for _sixty years_?"

Damon smirked as he pulled into the driveway in front of the house Elena had grown up in. "I told you, Mystic Falls is not my favorite place. It takes me a long time to get nostalgic for the good old days."

He said it casually enough, but there was a slight edge coloring his words and she decided to let the subject drop in the hopes of avoiding a fight. It didn't matter if he was as excited as she was to be back, what mattered was that he was there and - at least for the moment - no longer complaining.

A Jeep was parked in the driveway next to Ric's familiar vehicle, leaving her to assume that Jeremy had beaten them there. She grinned, buzzing with eager excitement over the prospect of seeing her family in a matter of minutes. The second Damon parked the Camaro and switched off the engine, she leapt out of the passenger seat. Racing to the trunk, she bounced on her toes impatiently as she waited for him.

"Hurry up, Damon," she chided, too excited to care that she sounded like a little kid on Christmas morning. The lid of the trunk popped open and a second later he was there, staying her hands before they could reach inside and grab her suitcase.

"I got it," he assured her. "Go inside before you explode or something."

"You're the best," Elena beamed, taking his face in her hands and peppering his mouth and cheeks with kisses. "I love you."

"You better," he grumbled, but his eyes were sparkling with amusement. She turned at the sound of the front door opening and Ric appeared on the porch. She returned his wave and was just about to rush inside when Damon closed his hand around her wrist and pulled her back to him.

"What-oh!" she exclaimed as he claimed her mouth in a scorching kiss that had her blushing by the time he pulled away. Blinking, she brought a hand to her lips and struggled for words. "Wh-what was that for?"

"Because I love you, too," he replied, smoothing the hair off of her face and tucking it behind her ear. His smile became a smirk as he glanced over her shoulder toward the house and waved at his friend. "And because I haven't seen Ric squirm like that since Christmas."

"Aw, see?" she grinned as her cheeks grew even redder. Laughing, she gave his hand a squeeze as she backed away. "I knew you'd have fun on this trip."


	2. Deja vu All Over Again

_AN: Posting on the fly at the library because my interwebs is down. Thank you all soooo much for the warm welcome back, the replies, favorites and alerts. You all rock! _

_This is long. Way long, but way important. __And worth it if I do say so myself. ;p_

_Three minutes left! Gotta go!_

**"_She's gone, Damon." The words echoed in the deathly stillness of the night, bouncing ineffectually off his numb shell. _**

**"_No." _**

Chapter Two – Déjà vu All Over Again

Standing within reaching distance of the bar, Damon held a drink in one hand, observing the gathered assembly with detached amusement. To the surprise of absolutely no one, Caroline had taken the idea of a small reunion and turned it into a Labor Day blowout, inviting half of the town and all of her graduating class to the Lockwood estate. The blonde vampire was in her element, glowing as she flitted from group to group, playing the perfect hostess and basking in the effusive compliments of her guests. Damon rolled his eyes as Caroline laughed uproariously at something that couldn't possibly have been _that _funny.

"Some things never change," Damon murmured to Alaric as he sidled up to the open bar. He continued to scan the party, noting the current incarnations of people he remembered from his youth. There may not have been a Forbes in Mystic Falls in 1864, but there had always been a Caroline around to exploit every occasion that could even remotely be considered noteworthy. "This _town _never changes. If they don't get to throw a themed party once a month they all go into withdrawal."

Alaric shrugged, holding up his whiskey seven, on the rocks. "Free food, free booze…I'm not complaining."

Damon tipped his head in acknowledgement, tracing the patterns in the cut crystal glass with his fingertips as he sought out the only reason he'd set foot in his cursed hometown. Elena sat next to Bonnie on an overstuffed white couch in the middle of the room, oblivious to the rest of the party as they engaged in animated conversation. He smiled softly at the sheer joy illuminating Elena's face. If he hadn't known better, he would have thought that the two hadn't seen each other in years, rather than a few months.

As if she could sense his stare, she turned her gaze to him, offering him a smile that hit him squarely in the gut. His chest tightened as he tipped his head at her and brought his drink to his lips to hide just how completely she undid him. Three years and he was still so fucking in love with her that there were times when he almost couldn't function.

It was pathetic. _He_ was pathetic

And he loved every goddamn minute of it.

"Elena seems to be having a good time," Alaric observed wryly. Damon ignored the knowing smirk his friend flashed at him, finishing his drink as he turned towards the bar and immediately ordered another – bourbon, straight up. A mirror spanned the width of the wall above the bar, allowing him to keep an eye on Elena and the rest of the party guests without having to actually look at them. The bartender had just placed his drink in front of him when Caroline returned to the room, beaming as she spoke to a cluster of former classmates near the doorway. A moment later, Tyler appeared, taking the hostess by the elbow and gently tugging her toward an empty corner. Damon didn't bother tuning into the brief exchange, but he couldn't help noticing the possessive way Tyler touched her or the lingering kiss Caroline gave him before they went their separate ways.

"When did that happen?" Damon asked, gesturing towards the mirror as Alaric joined him.

"What? Tyler and Caroline?" he asked, squinting at the mirror before looking over his shoulder at the blonde as she made her way to the couch to join Bonnie and Elena.

Damon nodded. "I thought they broke up. Again." Not that he cared, but he'd been sleeping next to Elena when Caroline had called a few months ago in the middle of the night. He hadn't needed vampire hearing to piece together the details as Caroline had cried hysterically into the phone.

Alaric shrugged. "Guess they got back together. How would I know?"

"You mean there's something in Mystic Falls that's more exciting than the romance between a vampire and a werewolf?" Damon asked sarcastically. "I refuse to believe it."

Alaric chuckled and they leaned against the bar in silence for a few moments as Damon's gaze returned unerringly to Elena. He tried not to be too obvious as he stared at her, knowing that she'd pick up on it, but he was unable to help himself. Being back in Mystic Falls exacerbated his already intense paranoia over her safety.

"Is everything okay with you two?" Alaric asked, studying his whiskey intently when Damon turned to frown at him. "Last night during dinner there was…tension."

"Are you asking as my friend or as Elena's pseudo parental figure?"

"Both…neither," he raised his shoulder in a half shrug and looked up. "Whatever it takes to get you to answer the question."

"We're fine," Damon replied, immediately knowing that he didn't buy it. Scowling at the other man's skeptical expression, he knocked back half of his drink. "It's this damn town. I hate being back here. I hate _Elena_ being back here. Everywhere I look, there's another reminder of a time she almost died. I know Caroline said it's been quiet the past two years, but I don't care. The longer it's quiet, the closer we are to the next goddamned catastrophe."

Alaric nodded, processing the mini-tirade as Damon took advantage of his silence to turn back to the mirror over the bar-tuning into Elena, Bonnie and Caroline's conversation at the same time.

"…and then he showed up outside of my bedroom window, howling like, all night long," Caroline said, perching on the edge of the antique coffee table.

"He did _not_!" Bonnie exclaimed.

"He _did_," the blonde insisted, the grin on her face practically splitting it in two. "It was like the werewolf version of _Say Anything._"

Grimacing, Damon tuned back out. He really didn't want to know the sordid details of Tyler and Caroline's reunion.

"You may be on to something," Alaric said quietly. "About the catastrophe, I mean."

Damon tensed as he turned back to his friend. "What?"

Alaric hesitated before choosing his words carefully. "There's been an increase in _animal attacks_ recently."

"What do you mean… _increase_?"

"Usually there's only a couple every few months, but in the past two weeks there's been four," he revealed. "None of the victims have been local, so it's stayed fairly quiet, but the Council has been on high alert."

The glass Damon had been holding abruptly shattered, spilling bourbon across the shiny mahogany bar top. Oblivious to the stares of the guests close enough to hear, he leaned toward Alaric and hissed. "And you didn't think to mention this _before _I brought Elena back here?"

"Elena's the one who asked me not to tell you," Alaric explained, steadily meeting Damon's seething gaze as he continued with genuine regret."I'm sorry, man. Caroline told her, I guess, so Elena called me and begged me to keep it quiet. She really wanted to come back for this."

Damon scowled as the bartender cleaned up the mess and presented him with a fresh drink as if he saw people break expensive barware with their bare hands every day. Snatching the drink, he slammed it back in a single gulp. Honestly, he wasn't all that surprised. Not that he'd been expecting to hear about a rash of unexplained murders, but the fact that Elena had gone to such lengths to keep it from him so he wouldn't cancel the whole trip– _that _made sense.

_Goddammit, Elena. _

He should have _fucking_ known.

"What made you change your mind?" he finally asked, glaring darkly at Alaric.

The other man shrugged, nursing his whiskey seven. "I figured it would be better coming from me than from one of the other council members. For both of you."

"So kind of you to think about my feelings _now,_" Damon muttered, sarcasm dripping from every word. His gaze drifted to the mirror and Elena's reflection as she threw her head back with laughter. The sound carried above the din of the other voices, once again pulling him into her conversation with Bonnie and Caroline.

"I'm shocked you got Damon to come," Bonnie said, casting a glance at the bar without realizing he was watching them in the mirror.

"Are you kidding?" Caroline scoffed. "He's completely whipped."

"That is not true," Elena argued. "We fought about it for weeks before he agreed."

"Ah, but the point is, he agreed," the blonde stated with a wide grin. Elena rolled her eyes before looking in his direction, smiling when she caught his gaze in the mirror. The expression faded quickly as she registered his obvious displeasure. A slight frown appeared between her brows and she set her drink on the table beside the couch as she began to rise to her feet. Caroline's hand on her wrist halted the movement, however. "Are you going somewhere?"

"Yeah, I, um…"

"Elena, wait," Bonnie said, grabbing her friend's hand and keeping her on the couch. Damon was relieved to see her sink back to the cushions. If she approached him now, the conversation could go only one way and he was pretty sure she wouldn't want him causing a public scene. Reluctantly, she tore her focus away from him and back to her friends. "I've been meaning to ask you something."

"Okay…what?" Elena asked after Bonnie hesitated. The witch cast a wary look in Damon's direction, still not realizing he was watching, and spoke so quietly he had to strain to hear her.

"Has Damon…I mean are you still…," she swallowed and looked down at her hands for a moment before drawing a fortifying breath and squaring her shoulders. "Has he turned you into a vampire yet?"

* * *

_Damon sighed, dragging his hand over his face as Elena did her best to burn him alive with her angry, betrayed gaze. _

I fucking hate birthdays.

"_Elena-."_

"_You promised," she snapped, crossing her arms and burrowing deeper into the couch cushions. Drawing her knees up to her chest, she looked like she had the day he'd met her – all of seventeen and completely unaware that the man who'd just kissed her hand was wondering if she'd scream or whimper when he sank his fangs into the delicate skin of her throat._

"_I know what I promised," he murmured, studying his ring as if it were the most fascinating thing he'd ever seen. Glancing at her, he cringed when he saw the tears in her eyes. He'd been dreading this day – her twenty-first birthday – since the day he'd promised to turn her. He'd always suspected that it – the biggest and last milestone for humans – would be the day she quit asking and started making demands. "And this isn't no, it's just…not now. You're not-."_

_Groaning in frustration, she scrambled off of the couch and began to pace. "I swear to god, if you tell me I'm not ready_ again_, you're sleeping on the couch until I turn twenty-two," she vowed, scowling at him. "I am ready for this, Damon. I've_ been_ ready. I feel like I've been begging and pleading with you for years. What the hell do you want from me?"_

"_We had a deal," he replied, using the reminder of their agreement her senior year as the basis for his refusal. "You're still afraid. I can see it, feel it…Hell, I can _hear _it, Elena. Every time I show even the slightest consideration your heart practically jumps out of your chest." _

"_Because it's_ scary, _Damon!" she exclaimed, throwing her arms out and facing him. "It's a major decision and once I make the choice, I can't go back."_

"_Exactly, my point," he replied, rising from the couch and attempting to remain calm and rational in the face of her anger. "You need to think-."_

"_I've been thinking about it since the day I found out that you and Stefan were vampires," she interrupted, pausing by the wall for a moment and collecting her thoughts. Changing tactics, she crossed back to him and grabbed his arm. Plaintively, she continued. "I'm tired of thinking about it, Damon. I love you. I want to be with you forever. I've made up my mind and it's not going to change. I want you to turn me. Now. Tonight." _

_He gazed at her in agony, feeling like someone had reached inside his chest, wrapped a hand around his heart and squeezed. Telling her_ no _killed him, but he had no other option. He couldn't turn her. Not yet. _

_Something in his face must have told her that she'd failed to sway him yet again and her shoulders sagged. Blinking furiously, she released his arm and backed away. "I don't get it," she said in a small voice, crossing her arms like she was trying to keep from falling apart. "I really don't, Damon. I thought…"_

"_You thought what?" he asked quietly._

"_I thought that you loved me enough to want me around forev-."_

"_Don't," he warned, nearly growling as he lost his grip on his temper. She could fight dirty when it came to_ anything _else, but not this. Stalking toward her, he grabbed her roughly by the arms and pulled her against him. "You don't get to blackmail me into fucking turning you. You_ know_ I love you, Elena. You know I want this, too." _

_Unmoved by his attempts at intimidation, she raised a brow and continued to stare him down. "Then do it." _

"_And what if it doesn't work?" he asked, pulling out an argument he'd used once or twice in the past. "You're the doppelganger, what if you're not supposed-."_

"_It worked with Katherine," she countered. _

"_But you've already died once," he argued. "What if the spell Bonnie and John cooked up changed you?" _

"_I'm willing to take the risk," she declared, uncrossing her arms to curl her fingers into his shirt. Damon closed his eyes as she moved closer to him, her body heat bleeding through the fabric of their clothes and burning through his resolve._ Son of a bitch. _She was ready and he knew it. The fear he'd seen in her eyes when she'd asked him earlier that evening had been nothing more than anticipation – the type of fear_ anybody_ would feel in facing something unknown. _

She's making it so goddamn hard_, he thought, gripping her arms tighter in a desperate need for an anchor. She was ready in every way – he'd fed from her the night before, so she even had his blood in her system. All he'd have to do is wrap his hands around her neck and-._

"_I can't," he confessed softly. _

_Making a sound of frustration, she tried to back out of his grasp, but he held tight. "Dammit, Damon, I'm as ready as I'll ever-."_

"_I'm not!" he shouted, opening his eyes to find her gaping at him. Sighing helplessly, he brought a hand to her face, trailing his thumb lightly over her cheek as if she might shatter. "I'm not." _

_Surprise robbed her of her passion and anger. "I don't understand. You're not what?"_

"_Ready," he replied as his gaze fell to her delicate throat and the pulse of life that beat there. "I'm not ready to kill you." _

* * *

Elena's jaw dropped and she reeled back as if she'd been slapped, but it was nothing compared to the metaphorical sucker punch to the gut that robbed Damon of breath. Time seemed to stop as Bonnie's question crashed over him, pounding against his brain like a jackhammer. _Had he _turned _her? _Goddammit. Leave it to the fucking witch to assume the worst of him, even after three fucking years. He was still the bad guy, still incapable of being trusted with Elena.

_And what's this _yet _bullshit? _he wondered bitterly, clenching his jaw as the images in the mirror began to lose focus. Had Elena been discussing it with her friends? Turning her was none of Caroline and Bonnie's fucking business, it was between him and Elena, nobody else.

Reigning in his anger, he caught Elena staring at him with trepidation as he realized he'd missed her response.

_Fuck this,_ he decided, shaking his head as he looked away. He didn't want to be there and clearly she didn't need him, so what the hell was he doing?

Coming to a decision, he abruptly slammed his glass on the bar. "I'm leaving," he announced, scowling at Alaric as he added. "Keep an eye on her."

Frowning, Alaric nodded, wisely keeping his mouth shut as Damon strode purposefully through the room, taking care to pass the couch and _not _acknowledge Elena, Bonnie or Caroline. It was petty and childish, but he didn't care. Let them wonder, let them talk. Hell, let the whole fucking _town_ talk.

The only person who mattered, the only person who had _ever _mattered, was Elena and at the moment, he didn't want to be in the same room with her.

* * *

Alone, Elena sat at the vanity in her old room, staring at a cell phone that wasn't ringing. A knot of anxiety twisted her stomach as she gazed at the silent, black screen._ He'll come back when he's ready, _she told herself for the millionth time, but the platitude offered her little comfort. Dejectedly, she picked up her brush, and turning her gaze to the mirror, began brushing her hair, counting the strokes as a distraction.

It had been hours since Damon had stalked out of the party and he hadn't so much as texted to let her know he was okay.

_Which I'm sure he is, _she thought darkly, yanking the brush through her hair with punishing force. She knew worrying about her _vampire _boyfriend was silly, but if growing up in Mystic Falls had taught her anything, it was that nobody was truly safe. Not even supposedly immortal creatures of the night.

She understood why he'd left the party – Bonnie's poorly timed question aside, Alaric had come clean about clueing Damon in on the rash of 'animal attacks' that had been plaguing Mystic Falls. She probably should have been using every moment of his absence to piece together an _excellent _explanation for her actions – her _lies _– but she was at a loss. The simple truth was that she'd lied to him to get what she wanted. End of story. Granted, there were pretty words she could give him to dress it up and lessen the betrayal – she hadn't _really _lied, since he'd never asked, for instance – but they were just semantics.

She'd willfully hurt him and now she had to deal with the consequences.

Elena sighed, tossing the brush onto the vanity and dragging her fingers through her static-filled hair before closing her eyes and dropping her head into her hands. This wasn't their first – or worst – fight. She would apologize and Damon would get over it, but she _hated _this part – the part where she felt like shit and knew it was her own fault and exactly what she deserved.

Suddenly, the air in the room shifted as a light breeze blew through her open window. She didn't move, but she couldn't help the smile that touched her lips despite her general state of regret. For the moment, her relief at his return was stronger. "The window, Damon?" she asked, propping her head on her chin as she gazed at his reflection in the mirror and raised a brow. "Really?"

Silently, he stood by the window, deep within the shadows that her bedside lamp couldn't reach. Avoiding her gaze, he examined the curtains and pillow on the bench seat as if for the first time before he shrugged. "Old habits."

She waited for him to say more, to give her a hint of where he'd been for six hours, but he said nothing and the silence began to weigh on her. Turning around, she tugged on the hem of his t-shirt, rather than her usual cami and yoga pants, that she'd decided to sleep in. He liked it when she wore his clothes to bed, and right now, she could use all the help that she could get. Licking her lips, she said. "Damon-."

"I'm going to take a shower," he announced abruptly, cutting her off as he grabbed his bag before retreating to the bathroom and closing the door.

"O-kay," she replied weakly to the empty room, swallowing past the lump in her throat. Her eyes burned as the shower drowned out any other sounds from within. Blinking away the tears, she struggled to maintain her composure. Crying was pointless. She needed to use the time to figure out what she was going to say when he came out of the bathroom.

Her brain, however, betrayed her and she was still sitting at her vanity when Damon emerged, a towel secured low around his hips. Elena drew her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them as he tossed his bag on the floor and sank heavily to the edge of the bed.

"Where have you been?" she asked quietly, doing her best to sound curious rather than accusatory.

Damon shrugged. "Around," he lifted his gaze, still avoiding hers. "I stopped by the house. Made sure it was still standing. Not that that mausoleum is ever going to go anywhere. It'll probably outlast the cockroaches."

Elena smiled faintly as she fought the urge to join him on the bed and curl into his side. _Better to just rip the band-aid off at once, _she decided, planting her feet on the floor and facing him. "Bonnie wanted me to tell you that she's sorry," she began, starting with the easier hurt to fix. "She wasn't accusing you of anything, she just wanted to know." Elena paused before continuing. "She stopped having the dream."

_The dream where I die a horrible death and wake up as a vampire, _she added silently. After Damon's abrupt departure, Bonnie had been quick to explain her inquiry. Her friend had no way of knowing what a sore spot the issue of 'turning' was for her and Damon, but her apology had been genuine. "It's been six months," Elena added after the silence between them reached an uncomfortable level. "Since the last time."

He scoffed angrily. "So, naturally she'd _assume_ that I'd-."

"She didn't assume anything, Damon," Elena quickly clarified. "You know how much she believed that the dream meant something. She needed to know why it went away."

Bracing his elbows on his knees, he scowled and dragged a hand over his face. _Screw this, _she thought, rising quickly from her seat and joining him on the bed. She didn't care how mad he was, she wanted to be close to him. She'd shared his opinion that Bonnie's dreams were meaningless – well, _mostly _meaningless. She couldn't deny the fact that she'd been affected by her friend's revelation that the dreams had ceased.

_What if it meant that she'd never…_

Shaking her head, she banished the thought to the back of her mind. Eventually, she and Damon _would _be on the same page regarding her becoming a vampire, but that wasn't the issue at hand. Leaning back on the mattress with one hand, she continued. "Bonnie feels really bad. She actually offered to call you and apologize herself, but I told her it might go over better coming from me."

"Are you trying to tell me the witch actually felt bad about hurting _my _feelings?" he asked after a moment. Turning his head slightly, he finally looked at her and the faint glint of amusement in his blue eyes loosened something within her. For the first time since Bonnie had opened her mouth at the party, Elena could draw a full breath.

"I guess so," she replied with a small smile. He shook his head in disbelief before lying back on the mattress and staring at the ceiling. Silence descended on them again as he made no move to encourage the conversation further. He wasn't even going to acknowledge that they had anything further to discuss.

_Well, it's my fault, I suppose I deserve this. _

Watching him carefully, she said. "I know Ric told you about the murders…and that I knew about them and _didn't _tell you." He made a noncommittal sound at the ceiling. "I'm sorry, Damon."

"Sorry that you lied to me?" he asked, briefly glancing her way. "Or sorry that I found out?"

"Both," she replied honestly, trying not to cringe at the way his expression darkened. "If I could have made it through the entire weekend without you knowing, I would have been happy to," she explained, wishing she'd been able to rehearse the speech before actually delivering it. There was no point in justifying her actions, so she went for brutal honesty – the best kind, Damon had often told her.

"But I should have told you what was going on right after I found out. You deserved to know instead of being blindsided," she admitted, tears gathering in her eyes yet again. This time, she didn't fight them as they pooled against her lashes and she continued. "I just really wanted to come home and I didn't want to fight with you about it. I can't explain it, but I needed to see Mystic Falls again."

"Enough to risk your life?" Damon asked, finding her hand and stroking it with his fingertips.

Elena pursed her lips in silent contemplation as their fingers gradually entwined. "You know, the Council didn't come into existence because you and Stefan came back to town. It's been around forever."

He shrugged. "So?"

"So," she said slowly, stretching out on her side next to him. "People have been disappearing from this town since before I was born. Animal attacks, murders, whatever," she leaned in closer, brushing a kiss against his temple. "My life was in danger long before you came here and turned it upside down."

Damon smirked, but there was a pain behind his eyes. "So, I should what…stop worrying about your tendency to find trouble _everywhere_?"

"Like that would ever happen, Mr. Over-Protective," she teased softly, tugging her hand free of his to caress the side of his face. The fact that he was talking to her rather than shutting her out completely gave her hope that they'd be over it before they left the next morning. "I _like _that you worry about me, but you can't protect me from everything."

"I can certainly try," he muttered.

"_Damon._"

"I get it, Elena," he admitted grudgingly, covering her hand with his against his cheek. She held his gaze, watching the war wage within. Allowing her to walk into danger went against every instinct he possessed, but he understood that he couldn't wrap her in cotton and keep her in a plastic bubble. He ran his fingers lightly up her arm and over her shoulder to sink into her thick, dark hair. Closing his hand into a fist, he continued. "I get that I'm paranoid, but you still should have told me."

"You wouldn't have let me come," she replied with certainty.

"Oh, I probably would have," he said, making a face at the ceiling before adding. "I'm _whipped_, right?"

Elena's eyes widened and she gasped. "You heard that, too? What the hell, were you snooping on our entire conversation?"

"Hey, super hearing," he protested. "Believe me, I suffered for it. I learned things about Lockwood that I _really _didn't want to know."

"Poor Tyler," Elena giggled, unable to get the image of Tyler Lockwood in werewolf form howling outside Caroline's window like a canine Romeo to her vampire Juliet out of her head. Impulsively, she lowered her mouth to his for a brief kiss. "I defended you, you know."

"_That_ guy is whipped," he grumbled in response, loosening his grip on her hair to smooth his hand down her back. "I, however, know how to pick my battles."

She raised a brow, shifting so that she could lean over him more comfortably. "Like threatening to tie me to the bed to keep me out of trouble?"

"Trust me, you would have enjoyed it," he replied with a smirk. Her gaze jumped between his eyes and his mouth, trying to decide which feature to get lost in - or whether she'd managed to explain her actions enough to have the choice. He was talking to her, touching her in all the right ways, but she didn't want to get ahead of herself.

Unable to resist, she captured his mouth again, lingering this time to get a full taste before pulling away and offering him another sincere apology. "I'm sorry, Damon."

"I know," he replied, studying her for a moment before initiating another kiss and effectively ending the conversation. Elena smiled against his lips, knowing that even though he hated the lie and hadn't said it was okay, she'd just been forgiven.

She returned the kiss, letting her earlier distress melt away as she took her time exploring the contours of his mouth. After three years, she had memorized every hard line of his body, but she never tired of it, never lost the feeling of discovery and giddy anticipation when they came together.

His hand on her back slid lower, over her hip to skirt underneath the t-shirt and press into her lower back. Moaning softly, she shifted on top of him, allowing her legs to fall to either side of his hips. His other hand joined the first beneath the t-shirt, pushing it higher and exposing her bare skin to the gentle breeze coming through the window. Her nipples pebbled from the combination of arousal and cool air and in one motion, she stripped the shirt over her head and tossed it to the floor. Naked now, except for a pair of lacy boy-cut panties, she immediately resumed the kiss, relishing the friction as her breasts rubbed against his bare chest.

"Are you trying to use sex to make me forget that you lied?" Damon asked, gripping her hips and holding her tight against him.

"That depends," she replied, reaching between them to loosen the towel around his waist. "Is it working?"

"Nope," he said with a grin. "But you're welcome to keep trying."

She laughed, pressing kisses to his chest and working her way up over his neck and jaw until she found his lips again. This was the best part - the part where they forgave each other. One way or another, their fights always ended like this. Sometimes it took longer - they'd had fights that had gone on for days - but they always found their way back to each other. What had started nearly four years ago as sexual tension and barbs laden with innuendo had grown into something deep and unbreakable - solidified by each apology.

Not wanting to rush, Elena took her time with every kiss and caress, gradually giving herself completely over to sensation. Eventually, Damon rolled her onto her back, pulling away far enough to hook his thumbs around the sides of her panties and tug them down her hips with agonizing slowness. He followed the path with his lips, making her moan with desire.

"How am I doing?" she asked lazily as he worked his way back up her body, taking his time to taste every inch of her heated skin. Bracing his arms on either side of her, he rocked his hips against hers so his arousal pressed against her wet center hard enough to make her gasp.

"Pretty damn good," he murmured against her mouth. He kissed her until her brain short-circuited and she was aching to feel him inside of her. Parting her legs, he settled between them, the length of his cock sliding against the swollen, sensitive flesh.

_God, I want him, _she thought, desire of every kind twisting her up in knots. Her entire body begged for him to take her. She was so wet and ready, he wouldn't have to be gentle, but she managed to keep her hips still and focus long enough to acknowledge that she wanted something else as well.

Something more.

* * *

_Elena stared at the ceiling and chewed on her bottom lip as she lay in bed. She should have been asleep, but every time she closed her eyes, they popped back open seconds later, as if the plain, white ceiling held the cure for her insomnia. _

_It didn't. _

_The cure was asleep beside her, holding her close beneath the covers. With a quiet sigh, she rubbed Damon's arm lightly before covering his hand and threading her fingers through his. All she had to do was say his name and he'd wake up, instantly alert. After that it was just the small matter of confessing the secret she'd been harboring since before they'd officially become a couple and she'd be well on her way to dreamland. Seven simple words would get the ball rolling. _

Damon, I want you to-

No.

Damon, I need you to bite me.

Not just bite_, she thought as a ripple of anticipation and desire rolled through her, coiling into a tight ball low in her belly. Elena needed him to_ feed_ from her, to sink his fangs into her throat like he'd done in Savannah the previous summer so she could feel it again –the pull of the blood from her veins that made her feel alive and connected to him in ways that she'd never experienced before or since. Only this time, she didn't want him to wind her up and leave her twisting from the precipice of release. She wanted him to stay until he finished the job and went tumbling over with her._

_She should have been worrying about the geology midterm she had in the morning – or at the very least, getting some sleep in preparation for it – but from the moment Damon had kissed her goodnight, she'd been unable to think of anything else. He'd tasted faintly of copper and as she'd kissed him back she'd assumed he'd ripped open a blood bag or two before he'd come to bed. It hadn't been the first time, nor would it be the last and she'd come to terms with it. While she preferred it when his kisses tasted of bourbon or coffee or just_ him, _the blood…was what it was. It didn't bother her. _

_The memories – desires – it evoked, however, definitely did._

_Stifling a groan of frustration, she gripped his hand tighter as the ache between her legs throbbed mercilessly. She was sure as hell_ bothered_ now. Turning her head slightly, she studied his peaceful features, toying with the idea of waking him up with her mouth on his– or better yet, with her lips wrapped around his cock. He'd be awake before she pulled back the covers, but he'd play along. Closing her eyes, she indulged in the fantasy of bringing him to the very edge of release, teasing him like he so often did to her, before climbing up his body and settling on top of him. She'd ride him long and hard, until she'd fucked the unsettling desire to have him_ feed_ from her right out of her system with a mind-blowing orgasm. _

_Except it wouldn't work. _

"_Dammit," she murmured, releasing his hand as she threw back the covers and sat up. Dangling her legs over the edge of the bed, she covered her face with her hands and tried to get her hormones under control. She'd tried it before – satiating the urge to be bitten with sex – and had failed spectacularly. The instant Damon had kissed her throat or nipped at the sensitive skin with his human teeth, she'd been right back to where she'd started– aching for something that she was too afraid to ask for. _

"_Can't sleep?" he asked, the low rumble of his voice setting her nerve endings on fire. Elena cringed, gripping the edge of the mattress on either side of her hips._ Why can't I just tell him?_ What was it about asking him to act on his nature that was so damn hard? They'd been together for over a year – they were_ living_ together – and she wasn't some kind of squeamish prude about sex with a vampire. _

"_No," she replied softly, feeling the mattress shift as he moved closer and knowing that it was about more than satisfying her desires. The topic of drinking from her challenged assumptions that had gone unspoken between them. Once she opened that Pandora's box, there was no going back. _

"_What is it, Elena?" he asked, trailing his fingertips lightly across the strip of bare skin between her pajama pants and her cami, making her tremble. Sometimes she wished he didn't know her quite so well._

"_When was the last time you fed?" she asked, closing her eyes as the words tumbled from her mouth unchecked. "Live, I mean." _

_Damon's hand stilled at her hip before slowly withdrawing, leaving her to deal with the sudden loss. Biting her lip again, she waited for his response, growing more certain with each passing second that he wasn't going to answer. _

_She wasn't sure if she wanted him to or not._

_The mattress moved again as he pushed himself to a seated position behind her. She felt the weight of his gaze, compelling her to turn around, but she couldn't move. If she looked at him, she might never get the words out. His voice was thick with wary confusion as he spoke. "You. In Savannah. Why?" _

"_That's what I thought," she murmured, ignoring his question. While she'd never asked him to abstain from hunting or drinking live, she'd assumed he had. _

"_What?" _

"_Do you miss it?" she asked, turning her head slightly and catching part of his profile. Her pulse beat erratically, making it difficult to draw a full breath. Before he could reply, she continued, voicing her thoughts aloud in a rush. "You must. I mean, it's your nature. It's what you do. Vampires are supposed to drink from humans, not from blood bags-."_

"_What is this about?" he demanded, his breath on the back of her neck tempering the hard edge in his tone. She'd broken out in a sweat, despite the relatively cool room._

Jesus, Elena, get a goddamn grip.

_Breathing deeply, she took a moment to organize her thoughts. "I know in the past I've been…" she trailed off, trying to find the right words to describe her attitude about vampirism._ Judgmental, rigid, a raging bitch? _Swallowing, she spoke carefully. "Black and white about the blood thing. I still don't like the idea of you feeding off of innocent people."_

"_I wouldn't," he replied immediately. _

_Realizing she'd offended him, she turned enough to look at him over her shoulder. "I know," she assured him, reaching up to touch his cheek. "I know you wouldn't, Damon. That's not what I'm…_God_, why is this so hard?" _

"_I have no idea," he said, looking at her as if she'd grown another head. "You want to know if I miss drinking live?"_

"_Yes."_

"_But you don't want me drinking live." _

"_No," she declared, frowning a second later and stammering. "I mean, yes, I…" she groaned in frustration, leaning back against his chest and letting her head fall back onto his shoulder. "Having experienced it for myself, I definitely don't want you…drinking live." _

_Damon paused before slipping an arm around her waist and pulling her tight against his chest. "Huh." _

"_Huh?" she repeated, sinking into the warmth of his body. "What does that mean?"_

"_It means…I had no idea…it means…_huh," _he replied, his hand slipping beneath her cami to caress her bare skin of her stomach. Her breathing grew shallow as his lips brushed her ear. "What exactly did you experience?" _

"_You were there," she said coyly, having learned a thing or two from him about ducking a direct question. "You tell me." _

"_For once I wasn't paying attention to you, Elena, I was trying to stay in control and not drain you dry. So…," he kissed her cheek, letting his lips drag slowly over her skin. The action made her pulse race – just like he knew it would. Softly, he murmured against her temple. "What was it like?"_

_Whether he'd purposely set out to seduce her into a confession or not, the effect was the same. Words that had refused to come out for months were suddenly there, falling easily from her lips. "I remembered how it was with Klaus, so it was hard not to fight you," she began, as his hand ventured higher, skirting the edge of her ribcage. "But with you it was different. I barely felt it until…"_

"_Until?" _

_She smiled faintly, knowing he could hear the rapid beating of her heart. "Until you started to drink. After that it was…," she paused, groping for the words to accurately describe how it had felt. Nothing in the English language even came close. "It was the most intense_, amazing _thing I'd ever felt…before or since, and I haven't been able to stop thinking about it…or_ wanting_ it again_."

_There. She'd said it. Her shallow breathing became the only sound in the bedroom as his hand stilled just below her breast. She was shocked she had finally admitted it out loud, but as she glanced at him she saw that her own surprise was nothing compared to the look of utter astonishment on his face. He didn't look like he could have formed words even if he'd wanted to, so Elena took a breath and stammered her way through the rest of her confession._

"_I can't tell you how many times I've almost told you and chickened out," she admitted quietly. "It seemed so…_personal. _I knew what I wanted, but I'd never…I didn't know how to say it. Then tonight, you kissed me, and I tasted blood and it finally clicked how stupid it was that we've both been denying ourselves what we really want." _

"_I'm not denying-."_

"_If that were true, you wouldn't be drinking every meal out of a glass," she argued. _

"_Elena…" Damon began, biting back the rest of his comment in frustration and letting his head fall against her neck. Feeling his breath ghost over the very spot where he'd bitten her before sent a sharp stab of longing straight to her clit. Biting her lip to hold back a moan, she closed her eyes as he slowly lifted his head and wrapped his other arm around her. "I…we_ can't_. I told you in Savannah, if I lose control-."_

"_You won't," she insisted, trembling as the reality of her desire seemed to linger just out of her grasp. Her nipples pebbled beneath the fabric of her cami, aching for his touch. "I know you won't. You didn't hurt me last summer when you were weak, you're not going to hurt me now."_

"_This is a bad idea."_

"_I don't care," she replied, craning her neck to look at him. She wasn't going to beg, but if it didn't happen, she wasn't sure that she'd be able to handle it. _

_Damon's gaze roamed her face for what felt like an eternity before finally settling on her throat. His voice was a ruined whisper as he demanded. "Tell me what you want."_

Now or never_. With trembling fingers, she gathered her hair and pulled it out of the way, baring her throat. "I want you to be a vampire, Damon," she explained, barely able to catch her breath in light of her racing pulse and the sexual need that was making her squirm. "I want you to drink. From me."_

_His mouth was on hers almost before she'd finished speaking, devouring her in a deep, passionate kiss that she could feel with every nerve in her body. Hungrily, she kissed him back, tasting his desperation and need and taking both as a sign that she was close to convincing him, to feeling the brief, but sharp sting of his fangs. _

_Tearing his mouth away from hers, she gasped, her chest heaving, as he continued a relentless assault on her senses. He pulled her down to the mattress, her back to his bare chest, as he blazed a trail of open-mouthed kisses down the column of her throat to the crook of her neck. Stretched out beside him, she reached up with one arm, cradling his head as she urged him on. He bit her gently, with the blunt edges of his human teeth, making her cry out as the sensation went to her throbbing core. _

_He worked his way back up to her ear before demanding raggedly. "Be sure."_

"_I am," she gasped as he nudged her legs apart with his knee, wedging his thigh between hers. The move brought them somehow, impossibly closer. She could feel the hard length of his arousal pressed against her. "I trust you."_

"_Elena…" he sighed, one last warning as the tendrils of doubt warred with overpowering need. _

"_I want this, Damon," she promised. _

_The simple reply hung in the air as they clung to each other. Elena had imagined this moment so many times that she wasn't sure what to do now that she was in the middle of it. Just when she thought he was going to deny her, he shifted, his head dipping lower and closer to her throat. His lips brushed her skin, bringing out goosebumps all over her body. Her eyes fluttered shut as he kissed her throat, worshiping her with his lips and teeth and tongue until she got lost in the sensations. Unprepared, she gasped as his fangs pierced her flesh, nearly coming on the spot. Her eyes flew open for a brief moment as her entire body tensed. _

_Then Damon took his first sip and Elena melted into his arms. _

_The experience was better than she remembered, better than the memories that had inspired her fantasies on the nights that she hadn't been with him. Every nerve ending in her body came alive, going from zero to sixty in the blink of an eye. Every breath, every touch was heightened and she couldn't tell where she ended and he began. She felt him everywhere, inside and out, as if in taking her blood he was replacing it with something of himself. _

_The last coherent thought to flit through her head before completely succumbing was that she hoped he felt it, too._

* * *

Elena held Damon's wrist to her lips and grimaced as his blood hit her tongue. She swallowed quickly, taking in the small amount necessary to heal the bite marks on her neck before gently pushing him away and making a noise of disgust.

Damon chuckled as she snuggled into his side, the sheets a tangled mess around their legs from their love making. After the first few times he'd taken her blood, she'd tried to hide the bite marks with a scarf, but that hadn't lasted long. Not only had she felt conspicuous and silly, he'd _hated _it. She'd asked him why, but all he'd ever said was that it reminded him of Andie. Elena hadn't pushed and when he'd mentioned – hypothetically, of course – that if she'd drink a little of his blood to heal the wounds, she could skip the scarves, she'd readily agreed.

Yawning, she kissed his bare chest and closed her eyes. "I'm going to miss this," she murmured as the soothing pressure of his hand stroking her back guided her toward sleep. Draping an arm across his body, she continued. "Can vampires drink from each other?"

His hand stilled on her back as tension seemed to radiate from every inch of his body. Realizing what she'd said, Elena's heart sank a little, but rather than apologize, she tightened her hold on him. Opening her eyes, she craned her neck to meet his eye.

"It's going to happen, Damon," she said firmly, but gently. She understood his reservations, but this wasn't just about a return trip to Mystic Falls or whether or not Caroline was capable of protecting her in Cozumel. This was about the future – _their_ future – and Elena had made her choice. She was going to turn and be with him.

Forever.

Damon held her gaze for a long, tense moment before shaking his head slightly. Wrapping both arms around her, he hugged her close, settling them both deeper into the mattress. Hoping they'd avoided another argument and ready for sleep, she closed her eyes and relaxed against him.

Halfway to unconsciousness, she felt his lips brush against the crown of her head as he whispered. "I know."


	3. Old Habits

_AN: Some of you are catching on the clues above the title. Excellent. The plot thickens. _

_Thank you for the feedback and enjoy!_

* * *

"_**Do something, dammit, you're a witch!" **_

"_**I can't!"** _

Chapter Three – Old Habits

Damon awoke to the early morning sun streaming through Elena's bedroom windows. Instantly alert, he looked around, taking in the familiar surroundings he still knew by heart. During her senior year, he'd spent plenty of nights in her bed, sneaking out of the window at dawn so she could maintain an innocent façade for Alaric and Jeremy. Nobody had believed it, but she'd said the ruse helped her feel like a normal eighteen-year-old. Damon had teased her about it mercilessly, but in the end, he'd indulged her. If Elena wanted normal, he would do his best to oblige.

Considering his world was anything _but _normal, it was the least he could do.

They'd shifted in bed during the night, coming apart to their own pillows, but Damon could feel the heat of her body, hear the steady beating of her heart only inches away. Turning onto his side, he propped his head in his hand as he took in her sleeping form – curled up into a ball, face half buried in the pillow, she slept on. He brushed her hair over her shoulder, exposing the smooth column of her throat were her skin was perfect and unblemished despite the fact that only a few hours earlier he'd sunk his fangs into her flesh.

They'd been exchanging blood on a regular basis for the past two years, and though he'd always been careful not to take too much, he'd insisted that she take his in return. Not only to heal the bite marks so that she wouldn't have to wear those stupid scarves, but also as a form of protection against the trouble she was always so quick to find. They may not have been plagued by the supernatural in Atlanta, but Damon was convinced that Elena could find a life-threatening situation in the reference section of the library.

She moaned softly as he caressed her cheek, turning into his touch in her sleep. _God, she's beautiful_. His heart twisted with the nagging concern that was never far from his thoughts. She'd stopped taking vervaine and while his blood would save her from death, it couldn't protect her from everything.

What they were doing was incredibly reckless.

And yet…

His fingers skirted over the pulse point below her jaw, finding the steady thrum of her heartbeat. Hearing it, feeling it, brought the first stirrings of bloodlust to the surface as he remembered how she'd melted into his arms at the first prick of his fangs.

There was no fucking way he could stop now.

* * *

_Panting, Damon rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling as he waited for his breathing to return to normal._ Why the fuck does that even happen?_ he wondered idly. He didn't need to breathe, so what the hell sense did it make for him to be out of breath? _

_An arm snaked across his naked torso, followed quickly by the rest of Elena's soft, pliant body as she draped a leg over his and buried her face in his chest. Her flushed skin was damp with sweat and the scent of her arousal permeated the air. Licking his lips, he could still taste her there._ That would be why_, he mused, circling an arm loosely around her waist and pulling her closer. Elena Gilbert could make a dead man breathless._

I'm a fucking sap_, he thought with chagrin as she pressed her lips against his chest in a lazy, open-mouthed kiss. He could feel her pulse racing beneath his hands and hear her heart pounding. His cock stirred as her equally heavy breathing whispered over his skin_. Fucking hell_, he thought, running his free hand through his damp hair as his lips twitched into a bemused grin. _

_He would never, ever get enough of her. _

_The scent of blood made its way past his over-stimulated senses, reminding him that round two – or three as the case may be – would have to wait. Pulling her hair away from her neck, he exposed the twin bite marks marring her flesh. He'd been careful with her – not exactly gentle, but precise in a way that only time and experience could teach – and the wounds he left were never ragged. They still bled, however, and there was a small amount seeping out now. _

_The sight of the warm, rich blood –_ her_ blood – brought heat to the skin around his eyes, making the veins rise to the surface as his fangs descended and his cock jumped once more. The thought of having her again – of drinking from her as he took her from behind and made her scream with pleasure – sent his libido into overdrive._

Jesus, Salvatore, calm the fuck down.

_Drawing a deep breath, he closed his eyes and pushed the bloodlust – hell, the plain old_ lust_ – aside, getting a grip on his control. He'd had enough – more than enough, since he refused to drink from her when he actually needed it – and she needed to heal. _

_Shifting against the pillows, he brought them both to a seated position and bit into his wrist. The blood that hit his tongue was thinner, more metallic than her human blood. "Elena," he said softly, nudging her with his shoulder so she'd open her eyes. He placed his wrist by her mouth, smirking with amusement as she made a face before dutifully taking in a few drops of his blood. "Good girl."_

_Grimacing, she pulled away. "I don't understand the appeal," she confessed, still somewhat breathless. "I mean, no offense, but gross." _

"_It's an acquired taste," he replied with a chuckle as he watched the bite marks begin to heal. Satisfied that his blood was working, he pulled her in for a lingering kiss before settling back against the pillows. Elena snuggled against him, hooking her leg over his beneath the sheets as she draped an arm around his waist. Closing his eyes, Damon kissed the top of her head before burying his face in her hair. Breathing her in, he held her as he gradually came down from the sexual high. _

"_Is it different for you?" she asked, breaking the silence as she swept her thumb over his skin in a constant, mesmerizing pattern. _

"_Is what different?" he asked without moving. _

"_The way I…I taste," she whispered hesitantly. _

_He lifted his head, frowning as he asked. "What do you mean?" _

"_Well, you like it, right?" _

_Damon raised a brow as he leaned against the pillows. "Do I like the way you taste?" he murmured, reaching for the hand at his side and twining their fingers together. _Like_ was only the understatement of the century. "Yes, Elena, I like it."_

"_So, what do I taste like?" she asked, craning her neck to look at him. "To you."_

"_Blood," he answered with amusement as her brow crinkled into a frown of confusion. "What? Were you expecting me to wax poetic and say that you taste like a fine wine?"_

"_No," she replied with a rueful grin as she rolled her eyes. Propping her elbow on the pillow they were sharing, she rested her head against her fist as she struggled to articulate her feelings. "I just…thought maybe it...that it somehow tastes different to you. I can't imagine_ enjoying_ drinking blood."_

"_I didn't always," he admitted, idly toying with her hand. After he'd turned, the very act of drinking blood and enjoying it had made his stomach turn even as he guzzled it down. _

"_What changed?" _

"_I got over myself," he said dryly._ With a little help from a friend_, he mused, recalling the woman who'd taught him what being a vampire was really about. That was a story for another day, however. He wasn't sure if Elena was ready to hear about Sage and the way he'd whole-heartedly embraced vampirism._ Or maybe I'm just not ready to tell her_, he admitted, drawing a breath and continuing before she could ask for more details. "Blood is…life. It's the only thing that satisfies the hunger."_

_She thought about that for a moment, absently chewing on the bottom lip that was still swollen from his kisses. Finally, she said. "So it tastes good because you need it."_

_The corner of his mouth curved upwards. "You sound disappointed."_

"_No, it's not that," she said, dropping her gaze as a blush crept up her cheeks. "I guess I just hoped that this whole thing wasn't one-sided." _

"_One-sided?"_

"_Yeah, you know," she shrugged, her gaze darting around the room, landing everywhere but on his face. "I've been bitten by a few vampires and, obviously with you it's…unique."_

'_Unique?" he repeated, recalling the orgasm that had ripped through her when he'd slipped inside of her and sank his fangs into her throat. "Is that your way of admitting you get off on it?"_

"_Shut up," she muttered, flushing an even brighter shade of red as she buried her face against his shoulder. "I was hoping that it was different for you, too," she confessed, the words muffled against his skin. He brushed her hair away from her face as she lifted her head and looked him in the eye. "That I'm more than just another human that you're drinking from." _

Just another human?_ Taken aback, he stared at her. Elena wasn't_ just another_ anything. Skirting the soft swell of her bottom lip with his thumb, he marveled at the idea that she could think drinking from her was anything other than one of the most extraordinary pleasures he'd ever experienced._

Of course, I've never actually told her that.

"_It's more," he promised, softly. "It's not about the blood. It's_ you. _The way you accept who I am…what I am and trust me enough to let…" he stopped as he veered dangerously close to sounding like a lovelorn idiot. "It's more, Elena._ You_ are more."_

_Her eyes sparkled with something that looked a lot like relief as she gazed at him silently, a smile playing over her lips. Reaching for him, she caressed his cheek and opened her mouth as if to speak, but no words came out. Closing her eyes, she shook her head and rested her forehead against his. _

"_Damon-," she began, but he didn't give her a chance to finish. _

_Tucking a finger under her chin, he murmured, "I love you, too," before capturing her mouth in a kiss._

* * *

The pleasure of the blood exchanges came at a price. Without the vervaine in her system, Elena was vulnerable to compulsion which, in turn, made him nervous. _Very_ nervous. In an attempt to protect her, and despite his deep-seated misgivings, he'd sought out a witch who'd owed him a favor.

Reaching over Elena's sleeping form, Damon swallowed hard, bracing himself for the searing agony, before snatching a silver bracelet off of the nightstand beside the bed. His skin began to blister on contact, making his eyes water from the intensity of the pain. The witch had done something to the metal, infusing it with vervaine and a powerful protection spell that made the risk Elena was taking more palatable to him. Quickly and silently, he slipped the bracelet around her wrist and secured the clasp before blurring out of the bed toward the window seat.

He let out a breath, shaking his burned hands until the agony subsided before quietly rifling through his bag for clothes. He dressed quickly, scooping his jacket off of the floor before making his way to her side of the bed. Crouching down, he trailed his fingers lightly through her hair as she once again turned toward his touch. He hated to leave her – he always hated to leave her – but he had an errand to run.

The night before, as he'd wandered through Mystic Falls, he'd done more than visit his old home. The animal attacks had piqued his curiosity along with his paranoia and he hadn't been able to stop obsessing over what they meant. Experience dictated that what happened in Mystic Falls automatically had to do with the doppelganger and no matter how loudly the rational part of his brain told him he was crazy, he couldn't shake the notion that the attacks were a threat against Elena. In the end, he'd done the only thing he could think of to stay sane.

Elena shifted further, the silver bracelet catching the light streaming in through the window as she rolled onto her back. The bracelet and his blood in her system went a long way toward protecting her, but it wasn't enough.

It would never be enough.

Pressing a soft kiss to her forehead, he slipped out of her room and closed the door, taking full advantage of his ability to move with unnatural silence. In a matter of seconds, he was out of the house, sliding behind the wheel of the Camaro and backing it out into the quiet street on his way to the sheriff's station.

* * *

Elena couldn't breathe.

"Time to go," Damon announced, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her backwards down the gravel road.

"Damon, no," she argued, her heart constricting with panic as she dragged her feet. She stared at the scene of torture before her in abject horror– the woman in white, trapped by compulsion, silently begging to be saved. "We have to help her."

"No," he replied curtly, leaving no room for argument as she struggled in his arms, his superhuman strength nearly crushing her ribs.

"Please, Damon," she begged, clutching at the hand digging into her side with bruising intensity. His other arm circled around her chest, pressing down on her with an astounding pressure. Gasping for breath, she cried. "He's gonna kill her."

"I know," he admitted, cold and heartless as they arrived at the Camaro. He opened the passenger door, nearly wrenching it off of the frame. "Get in the car."

"No!" she argued, fighting to breathe against the vice that continued to squeeze her lungs even though he was no longer holding her.

"Get in the fucking car," he demanded. She refused to move, blinking furiously as tears of anger and fear blurred her vision. _What if it were me? _She wanted to scream at him and pound her fists against his chest until he did something, _anything _to save the helpless woman.

Pushing her roughly inside of the car before she could register the movement, he blurred around to the driver's side. Jamming the key in the ignition, he growled out another warning. "Do yourself a favor and don't turn around."

Propelled by horror and morbid curiosity, she did the exact opposite. Transfixed, Elena watched the woman in white stand motionless as she was ripped apart by hands and arms and teeth that moved too quickly for her to detect. Blood poured from the woman's immobilized limbs, turning her white dress a deep, dark crimson, as her beating heart was yanked from her chest.

Paralyzed, Elena couldn't even draw a breath to scream.

She awoke with a start, gasping and earning a mouthful of pillowcase for her efforts. Panicked, she struggled to roll over, but the sheets were tangled around her waist, pinning her to the bed. Turning her head to the side, she managed to draw in a full breath through the tangled mess of hair hanging over her eyes and twisting around her neck. Frantically, she clawed at it with her fingers, pulling it away from cheeks wet with tears.

_It was a dream_, she thought desperately as she finally won her struggle with the sheets and lurched her way to a seated position. _It was just a fucking dream._

Prying her eyes open, she winced at the bright light streaming through her windows and immediately buried her face in her hands. Propping her elbows on her knees, she curled protectively around herself and waited for her pulse to return to normal. _Just a dream, just a dream, _she thought, reciting the familiar mantra in her head. She was no stranger to nightmares, having suffered from them on a regular basis ever since her parents had died. She'd relived the horrific night on that desolate gravel road in South Carolina so many times that she had every word, every movement memorized.

The nightmares had been getting better in Atlanta, saving their vicious attacks for midterms, finals and whenever she had a deadline with her internship at the publishing company. Which was just g_reat._ Two days back in Mystic Falls and they'd already returned. _Just fucking great. _She could hear Damon's 'I told you so' already. He'd never let her come home again.

Blindly, she reached toward his side of the bed as she lifted her head and ran her hand through her hair. "Damon?" she asked, frowning when she found his side of the bed empty. Lifting her head, she looked toward the bathroom. The door was open, revealing the equally empty interior.

He wasn't there.

Her heart seized with panic over his absence as the remnants of the nightmare tried to override rational thought. _He's probably just downstairs, _she thought, taking a deep, calming breath. He'd wanted to leave for Atlanta early, so he was probably just making coffee or packing the car. Looking around her room for confirmation of her theory, she ran her hand through her hair and noticed the weight of the silver bracelet.

Elena stared at it, wondering how it had gotten back on her wrist when she distinctly remembered taking it off the night before. She always took it off when she was with Damon because she didn't want to burn him by accident. _He must have put it back on, _she decided, picking the only logical explanation.

A sudden surge of irritation swept through her. The bracelet was meant to protect her and if he'd put it back on, then he wasn't simply downstairs, he'd _left – _left without waking her up to tell her where he was going or even saying goodbye. He was probably still upset about the party and he'd left without a word as some kind of payback.

_He's such an ass, _she thought darkly, wrapping the sheet around her body as she climbed out of the bed. Her cell phone was still sitting on the vanity where she'd left it the night before. Hoping Damon had at least thought to text and let her know where he'd gone and when he'd be back, she grabbed it. The blank screen mocked her as she repeatedly pressed the power button, and with a sinking heart, she realized that the battery was dead.

She'd forgotten to charge it. _Again_.

_Another 'I told you so'_, she thought with a scowl, digging through her bag for her charger. She had a bad habit of letting the stupid thing run down and Damon had an equally bad habit of giving her shit about it.

Plugging it in with disgust, she left it to charge as she headed for the bathroom. Moving purposefully towards the shower, she turned on the water, letting it warm up as she went to the sink to brush her teeth. Her scowl deepened as she noticed Damon's things spread neatly—always neatly—across the counter.

Weighed down by the remnants of her nightmare, her mood darkened even more as she realized that Damon had left her to pack up their things for the long drive home.

_Screw that,_ she thought grimly, brushing her teeth with renewed vigor. He was a big boy…he could do it himself.

* * *

Damon leaned against the rough brick of the Sheriff's station as Liz Forbes pulled her car up to the curb and parked illegally on the empty street. She exited the vehicle in street clothes, her mouth set in a familiar, annoyed line that he hadn't seen in over two years.

"Liz," he greeted her with enthusiasm as she stomped up the cement steps and selected a key from her impressively huge key ring. Nodding toward her car, he tsked. "Not setting a very good example for the populace, are we?"

"I'll write myself a ticket," she grumbled as she approached the front door and slid the key into the lock. It turned easily and she yanked it open, gesturing for him to enter. "After you, Damon."

The building was quiet, partially locked down for the weekend with only one deputy and a dispatcher on weekend duty. Securing the door behind her, she brushed by him continuing down the hallway toward her office. Leisurely, he followed. "What, no 'hello Damon', 'nice to see you, Damon', 'it's been so long and I've missed your charm and intelligence, Da-."

"It's my day off, _Damon_," she interrupted with a withering glare as she made her way toward the file cabinets lining the wall beside her desk. Opening the top drawer, she pulled out a stack of files and carried them to a table on the opposite side of the room. "The only reason I agreed to meet you here is because I'm willing to take any help I can get on these…animal attacks."

Damon raised a brow as Liz moved around him to close the door. "Still keeping the truth from the rest of the office?"

"It's a Council decision," she murmured, returning to his side as he picked up the top folder and flipped it open. He whistled at the crime scene photos clipped to the top page of the report. The unidentified woman had been bled dry, the veins in her forearms sliced open from shoulder to wrist. The white sundress she'd been wearing was saturated with blood. He'd seen worse – _done _worse in his more self-destructive moments – but that didn't take away from the impressive brutality of the kill.

Setting the file aside, he focused on the photos, flipping through close-ups of the wounds on the arms as well as the matching cuts on the legs. Smaller incisions were made on either side of the neck and the face. There was so much blood, so much torn and damaged flesh, that Damon almost missed what he was looking for. Shuffling to the last of the photos – a close up of the victim's face – he found it. Twin bite marks, partially obscured by a deep cut that went from just behind her ear all the way to her collarbone. Glancing at Liz, he said. "So, _not _an animal attack."

"No," she replied quietly, keeping her gaze on his face and away from the gruesome photos.

"Did they all look like this?" he asked, replacing the photos in the folder and picking up the next one.

"Yes," she said, rattling off the facts as he scanned each set of photos. "The victims were found on rural roads outside of town – a different road for each victim. Based on the amount of blood at the scene we were able to determine that they weren't killed there, but we haven't been able to find the primary crime scene."

"Not surprised," Damon said, studying the wound that had probably killed victim number three – a deep, horizontal cut slicing through the neck almost to the point of decapitation. "Have you found any evidence at all?"

"No," she replied, shaking her head in irritation. "The killer-."

"Vampire," he supplied wryly as he glanced up from the last set of photos. "You can say it, Liz, you know that's what you're dealing with."

Bracing her hands on her hips, she sighed. "Fine. The _vampire_ dropped the bodies without any personal effects. We're working on identifying them through missing persons reports and dental records, but none of them were local, so it's going to take time," she said, failure thick in her voice. After a moment, she asked. "Do you…do you recognize anything? Does anything click? Anything at all?"

Studying the final photo of the most recent victim – a young brunette with dark eyes who looked enough like Elena to make his skin crawl – Damon didn't answer. The image of her lying in bed where he'd left her– asleep and completely vulnerable save for a scrap of silver around her wrist – flitted across his mind as a sharp stab of fear robbed him of breath. All the vampire blood in the world wouldn't save her from overkill like this.

"Damon?"

He blinked, the photo snapping back into focus as he realized that aside from the shared characteristics, the girl looked nothing like Elena. Swallowing, he returned the photos to their proper order and slid them back inside the folder. "I've seen some creative kills, but I don't recognize this."

"Damn," Liz cursed softly, carefully stacking the folders and returning them to the filing cabinet. A map of Mystic Falls and the surrounding townships taking up most of the wall above the table drew his attention.

"Are these where the bodies were found?" he asked, eyeing the four red flags seemingly stuck into the map at random.

"They are," the sheriff confirmed, standing beside him with her arms crossed. He studied the map, making note of the date and each location as it had become a secondary crime scene. He was genuinely interested – not just to keep Elena safe from yet another psychotic vampire, but because in a weird way, he didn't approve of this kind of destruction. Sure, he'd ripped out his fair share of throats, some in a pretty spectacular fashion, but for the most part he'd maintained control. Survival of the vampires as a species – and more importantly himself – depended upon secrecy. That secrecy was the basis for his distaste of Stefan's Ripper tendencies and his insistence on hiding the bodies when he lost control.

"When was the last victim discovered?" he asked.

"Four days ago," she said with a sigh as she turned away from the map and retreated to her desk. Sitting heavily in the chair, she massaged her temples. "They've been showing up every five or six days."

"So you're due…" he mused, eyeing the map as he wondered where the next body would likely appear.

"We're hoping he sticks to the pattern," she explained, making a sound of disgust as the words left her mouth. "I hate that. I hate _hoping _for another dead body."

"It's the only way you're going to catch him," Damon pointed out, turning away from the map and leaning against the table. _And even that's a long shot. _For all of their research and historical significance, the Mystic Falls Town Council had always been pathetically ineffectual in the actual _killing _of vampires.

"I don't know if I can keep this quiet for much longer," Liz confessed softly, studying her hands. "If he changes his pattern and goes after someone local…"she paused, shaking her head before continuing. "The mayor is already threatening my job and I can't say that I blame her. It's been so quiet for so long, Damon…maybe I'm not the right person for this anymore."

"Come on, Liz, you've seen worse," he replied, recalling Klaus's reign of terror. "So what if you're a little out of practice. Mayor Lockwood and her flunkies couldn't do any better and she knows it."

Liz responded with a strained smile, leaning back in her chair and looking wistfully out of the window. "That's nice of you to say, but unless something changes…" she glanced at him, an unspoken question evident in her eyes. He recognized that look – had seen it countless times during his tenure on the Council. Despite all of the times he, Stefan, or even Caroline, had saved the town's collective ass, Liz Forbes still had a difficult time asking a vampire for help.

Crossing the room, he braced his fists on the desk and raised a brow. "Is there something you want to ask me, Liz?"

"It…might be helpful if I had another pair of eyes to help out with the investigation," she said slowly. "Eyes that see things that I can't. Just for a few days."

_Uh huh, _he thought, cocking his head. "How many?"

"Five," she replied immediately, leaning forward in the chair eagerly. "A week at the most."

"I'm leaving today," he replied even as he began weighing his options. Elena had to return to Atlanta to start classes, but there was nothing important demanding his presence. The idea of leaving her alone for five days sent his protective instincts into overdrive.

Of course, Elena _had_ been complaining lately that he'd been going overboard…

"Damon, please, I'm desperate," Liz pleaded.

"Well, when you put it like that," he rolled his eyes and shrugged. "I'll give you five days."

Liz's shoulders sagged with relief. "Thank you."

"Hey, you know me," he replied with a rakish grin. "Always happy to help out the Council."

Rising from the chair, the sheriff began bustling around the room, pulling files back out of the filing cabinet and depositing them onto her desk. "I thought we could start by revisiting the crime scenes. The investigations are still open, so the roads are still cordoned- ."

"I'll meet you at crime scene number one in an hour," Damon interrupted, backing toward the door as he pulled his cell phone out of his pocket. "I've got to check in with my travel agent."

He let himself out before she could protest, tapping a button on his phone as he wondered how Elena would take the news that he planned on staying in town. Vaguely concerned, he'd barely brought the phone to his ear before her voice mail picked up without ringing, cheerily telling him that she wasn't available, but if he left a message she'd be happy to get back to him. Muttering a curse, he pushed through the front doors and ended the call.

She'd forgotten to charge her goddamn cell phone. _Again_.

* * *

Despite her promises to the contrary, Elena had caved and packed both her and Damon's things. Disgusted with herself, she dropped them by the front door as she made her way into the kitchen and flipped on the coffee maker. Moving to the window above the sink while the machine went to work, she peered out toward the empty driveway. _He'd _been the one who'd insisted on leaving at the crack of dawn and now, at midmorning, he was nowhere to be found.

Bowing her head, she curled her fingers around the edge of the sink. The nightmare hovered at the edge of her consciousness, making her skin crawl as the vivid images replayed across her mind. She hated the nightmares – hated how they made her feel like a weak little girl and made her miss Damon so intensely that she almost forgot how irritated she was with him. She knew she needed him, but she hated _needing _him, hated the way he seemed to be the only person who could make her forget about the bad dreams just by holding her in his arms.

_I'm am angry at my boyfriend, _she reminded herself darkly, leaning forward and craning her neck to look both ways down the street for any sign of the Camaro. Making a face, she turned away from the window and pulled her fully charged cell phone out of her pocket as the coffee began to drip into the pot. Pressing a button, she watched as the screen came to life, and began beeping with voice and text message alerts – the latest one being from Damon.

"_At the Sheriff's station catching up with Liz." _

_Catching up with Liz? _Elena frowned, wondering what the hell _that_ was about. The next text was from Bonnie, wondering if Damon had ever come home. She sent a quick reply before deleting it and checking her missed calls. Her frown deepened as she noted that she had two from an unknown number. With renewed irritation, she punched the button to dial her voicemail. The first message was from a telemarketer and she quickly deleted it.

The second message began silently and she nearly deleted it as well when a faint rustling sound caught her attention. Elena froze, listening. _Was that…breathing?_ She narrowed her eyes, listening intently. The sound was slight – not the heavy, mouth breathing of some creep, but a shallow intake of air that seemed somehow… _menacing_.

_What the hell? _

She listened to the message again – and again – straining to discern more details. By the end of the fourth time through, however, she wasn't even sure the sounds she heard _were _breathing. Feeling frustrated and foolish, she deleted the message.

_Damon's paranoia is rubbing off on me, _she scowled, grabbing a mug and pouring herself some of the freshly brewed coffee, eager for the jolt of caffeine. Opting to wait for him on the porch, she ventured outside and sat down on the front steps. Sipping her coffee, she mulled over the weird phone call, the nightmare and Damon's disappearing act that morning, so that by the time the familiar roar of the Camaro cut through the stillness of the morning, she was more annoyed with her boyfriend than ever.

Abandoning her mug, she strode down the sidewalk and around to the driver's side before Damon had even killed the engine. "Nice of you to come home," she snapped, tucking windblown strands of hair behind her ear before demanding. "What were you doing at the sheriff's station?"

"Good morning to you, too," he replied with exaggerated calm as he climbed out of the vehicle and rested his forearms across the top of the open door. Tilting his head, he raised a brow, adding. "I see you finally charged your cell phone."

* * *

_Fuming, Elena climbed the stairs to the second floor ahead of Damon, checking the messages on her newly charged phone so she wouldn't have to talk to him. She'd had eight missed calls in the past five hours, seven of which had been from him. _

"_God, that was embarrassing," she muttered, brushing past him as he held the door for her. "I can't believe you did that. I just started that job and now I'm never going to be able to show my face there again."_

"_Please," he scoffed, following her inside and locking the door behind him. "It's not that big of a deal."_

"_Not that big of a deal?" she repeated incredulously, tossing her school bag on the couch and whirling on him. "You stormed into my place of employment-."_

"_I did not_ storm_," he argued. "I very calmly entered the coffee shop-."_

"_And proceeded to hold the place hostage when they couldn't immediately tell you where I was," she finished, her cheeks burning with humiliation all over again. _

"_Nobody was being held hostage, everybody was free to come and go as they pleased," he replied airily, shrugging out of his jacket and tossing it over the back of the couch. _

"_Yeah, at their own peril," she said, shaking her head as she recalled the scene she'd returned to after her brief dinner break. Damon had been seated at a table near the counter where he could see – and glare – at everyone who dared to enter or exit. "And you interrogated my coworkers."_

"_For all the good it did me," he muttered. "None of those idiots knew where you were."_

"_That's because I was on my break," she explained for what felt like the millionth time. "Which I'm required to take. By_ law."

"_And…what, you couldn't have let someone know where you were going?"_

"_I could have," she allowed, warming up to the argument. "But unlike you, Mr. Third Degree, my boss doesn't make me fill out a detailed itinerary every time I dare step out of her sight. She thinks you're a dick, by the way."_

"_So?"_

"_And I'm pretty sure my coworkers think I'm in an abusive relationship with an obsessive asshole." _

"_And?" he asked, crossing his arms and raising a brow. Elena fought the urge to reach out and slap the nonchalant expression right off of his face. "I don't give a shit what they think, but if it really bothers you that much, you've got no one to blame but yourself."_

"_Me?" Her voice shot up an octave in incredulity._

"_The coffee shop sells food right?"_

"_You mean those overpriced mini sandwiches and pastries?" she said, wrinkling her nose. "I wanted real food, Damon." _

"_Your choice," he replied, invading her space as she held her ground. "All I'm saying is that you had options. If you'd been where you were supposed to be I wouldn't have had to-."_

"_Accost my coworkers?"_

"_Inquire as to your whereabouts," he clarified. "Or hell, you could have done something even more novel like keeping your goddamn cell phone charged."_

"_Oh, my god, Damon, really?" she exclaimed. "So I missed a couple of calls-."_

"_A couple? I've been trying to get a hold of you since this morning!"_

"_I was in class!" she reminded him for the millionth time. "And then I had to work. You know this, you've got my entire schedule memorized." _

"_That's not the point," he said, speaking clearly as he stepped even closer. "I need to be able to reach you. What happens if-."_

"_Oh my god, Damon! We're not in Mystic Falls," she cried. "I'm not being hunted by crazy vampires or Originals anymore. Things have been quiet for over a year, when are you going to relax?"_

"_When it comes to you? Never," he replied just as harshly. "You are a trouble magnet, Elena Gilbert and keeping you safe is my job."_

"_I know that, but…" she sighed, knowing the entire argument was pointless. They could put Mystic Falls and the danger they'd survived in their rearview, but Damon would never forget. _

"_If you don't want me to take such drastic measures then just keep your damn phone charged," he said, repeating the simple instructions that she'd heard a hundred times, but couldn't seem to abide by. Before Klaus had been killed and every day of her life had been a fight for survival, she'd been as obsessive about keeping in contact as Damon had been about keeping her alive. After the Original's death, as her life had gradually taken on some semblance of regular human normalcy, the constant need for communication had ceased. These days, more often than not her phone died before she even noticed the battery was low._

"_Okay," she said, closing the distance between them and placing her hands on his tightly crossed forearms. They had to find some kind of resolution. Peering up at his bright blue eyes through her lashes she continued. "I'll make you a deal. I will be better about keeping my phone charged -."_

"_And actually turned on."_

"_And actually turned on," she nodded indulgently as she squeezed his arms. "If you promise to relax and quit assuming the worst when you don't hear from me for a few hours."_

_Damon held her gaze as he considered her offer for a moment, before eventually shrugging. "Deal." _

"_Deal," she agreed with a smile, rising on her toes and kissing him, knowing full well that there was no way either one of them would be able to keep up their end of the bargain._

* * *

Clearly primed for a fight, Elena's eyes flashed at Damon as she ignored his barb about her consistent failure to charge her phone. Crossing her arms, she raised a brow. "So, I take it you're still mad at me."

"What?" he frowned.

"Isn't that why you left without saying goodbye?" she demanded, her chin lifted in righteous indignation. _Ah, _he thought, eyeing her defiant stance like a boxer appraising the competition. _Probably should have woken her up this morning. _

"You were asleep," he reminded her, closing the door and approaching her carefully as he tried to judge just how real her anger was. Their arguments always danced on the line between actual fights and foreplay. He enjoyed getting a rise out of her, often conceding a point just so she'd shut up and let him kiss her.

Judging by the fire in her expression, however, he was pretty sure that if he tried that this time, she'd punch him in the face.

Courting her temper, he tucked a windblown lock of hair back in place behind her ear as he smirked. "I figured I wore you out last night."

Elena glared at him as she batted his hand away and stood her ground. "What happened to leaving early?"

_Okay, so it's going to be like that. _Matching her stance, he shrugged. "I was curious about those _animal attacks _you neglected to tell me about."

"So you _are _still mad," she declared triumphantly.

Rolling his eyes, he let that slide as he continued. "I asked Liz if I could take a look at the files."

"I thought you couldn't wait to get the hell out of town," she countered.

"Yeah, about that…" he said slowly, bracing himself for the flare of her temper. He hadn't expected her to like his plans, but given her current state, what he said next was likely to start a nuclear war. "The investigation isn't going anywhere and the Mayor has been breathing down Liz's neck, so…I said I'd stick around and help. "

"Wait…_what? _You're going to stick around?" she repeated, eyes widening in disbelief. "So, what…you're back on the Council now? Or did you just skip that and join the Mystic Falls police department?"

"I'm helping out a friend, Elena."

"Well, I can't stay," she replied haughtily. "Classes start on Tuesday and I need to get everything ready."

"I know. I'm not asking you to stay," he explained as her brow furrowed in confusion. Taking a step toward her, he placed his hands on her shoulders. "There's a ticket waiting for you at the airport and a cab should be here any minute to take you there."

Elena's jaw dropped in shock as she stared at him soundlessly for a few moments. "Oh, my god," she exclaimed, when she found her voice, backing away from him in horror. "You bought me a ticket…and there's a cab…What the _hell_, Damon, do you think you can just pack me up and ship me off like…like-?"

"What? No, it took me five minutes to arrange it on the way over here…Jesus, Elena, will you relax for a second," he said, grabbing her by both arms and forcing her to a stop. Dipping his head, he looked her in the eye. The usual mischievous gleam was there, letting him know that this fight was no different than any other. Three years hadn't tempered her stubborn tendency to challenge him when she thought he was being too overbearing – or just because she felt like it. He hadn't expected her to thank him for staying or making different travel arrangements, but something felt strange. "I know you need to get back for school and I was trying to be nice. Why are you so pissed off?"

"I'm not pissed off," she argued, spitting out the words with indignation. "I just find it ironic that I had to twist your arm to get you here and now you want to stay."

"It's just for a few days. I'll be home by Friday at the latest," he explained, searching her gaze for a hint as to what was underneath all of the hostility she was throwing at him. Raising his brows suggestively, he added. "You can start out the semester without me there to _distract_ you."

"Nice try," she sneered. "But you're not going to dress this up and convince me that being abandoned is a favor."

"Abandoned?" he shook his head and stared at her as she met his gaze with blazing brown eyes. "Elena, seriously, what is going on?"

She looked at him for a long moment as some of the heat left her gaze. Softening slightly, she bit her lip. "It's nothing. It's stupid. I just-," she broke off as the rumble of a car engine came to a stop at the end of the driveway. Instantly, her mood shifted and the hint of vulnerability disappeared behind a disingenuous smile. "I'm sorry, my cab is here. I better not keep him waiting. Apparently, I have a plane to catch."

"Elena…" he sighed as she flounced away to retrieve her bag. His gaze dropped to her ass and he swore she put an extra sway in her hips just to drive him nuts. _Goddamit. _There was no way he'd get a straight answer from her now.

Skirting around the hood of the car, he leaned against the passenger side and grabbed her arm when she tried to breeze passed him. Gripping her chin, he kissed her hard before she could protest, coaxing a soft moan from her as her mouth briefly moved with his before she pulled defiantly away. Without releasing her, he held her fiery gaze, demanding. "Be safe. Don't do anything stupid just because you're mad at me. I love you."

"I love you, too," she replied. "Jerk."

He smirked, releasing her arm as she headed for the cab. This time as his gaze was inevitably drawn south, he _knew _she was putting on a show just to remind him of what he'd be missing for the next few days. _Fuck. _Fighting the urge to run after her and drag her into the back seat of the Camaro for one last goodbye, he watched as the cab driver put her bag in the trunk and opened the door for her. "Keep your cell phone charged. And on."

"Yes, _dad,_" she replied flippantly, waving her phone at him as she climbed into the backseat. Damon shook his head as the vehicle pulled away from the curb, making its way down the street where it disappeared around the corner. Elena never looked back.

_Brat, _he thought as he headed toward the house. _It's going to be a long five days._


	4. Someone Else's Shadow

_AN: The reponse to chapter three was so amazing, you guys, thank you. I love that you're enjoying Damon and Elena's relationship so much. As I've told some of you, my beta and I were concerned about getting it just right, so the kudos are greatly appreciated. _

_That said, enjoy the fluff in this chapter. Damon and Elena's reprieve has nearly come to an end. _

* * *

**_Blinded by rage and pain, he whirled on her, grabbing her by the throat with one hand and lifting her in the air. Her eyes went wide with shock and she clawed at him ineffectually._**

**_He began to squeeze. _**

**_Before he could choke the life out of her, a strong hand locked around his wrist and a commanding voice cut through the haze. "Damon. Stop."_**

Chapter Four – Someone Else's Shadow

Damon stood beneath the hot Virginia sun as it blazed overhead, listening to his phone ring and ring – and ring – as he waited for Elena to pick up on the other end. It was Monday morning – almost twenty-four hours since he'd kissed her and put her in the cab – and he hadn't heard from her.

Not one goddamn thing.

"Jesus, Elena, seriously?" he muttered as her voicemail picked up yet again. He knew she was angry with him – as expected – but the radio silence was getting on his nerves.

And doing nothing for his paranoia about her safety.

_This was a mistake, _he thought as the little voice inside of his head nagged at him. He never should have sent her to Atlanta alone. Never mind the fact that their life had been as close to normal for the past three years as they could expect or the fact that they'd been separated before and she'd survived. He'd been skeptical two years ago when she'd brought up the idea of spring break with Caroline and Bonnie in Cozumel, but he'd let her go.

Forget _let – _he wasn't her goddamned father – he'd _accepted _that Elena planned to go on vacation with her best friends like every other college freshman in the country.

_And she'd survived, _he reminded himself with irritation. More than survived, she'd had an amazing time and reminded him of the trip whenever his protective instincts went into overdrive and conflicted with her need to be somewhat independent. When she'd brought up Costa Rica for spring break the following year, he hadn't even flinched.

Outwardly, anyway.

"Damon?" Liz called his name, breaking through his inner diatribe and pulling his attention back to the present.

Groaning internally, he rolled his eyes and glared at the sky. He was being an idiot. Elena was _fine_ – the silent treatment she was dolling out was nothing more than retaliation for the abrupt way he'd sent her home. It wasn't the first time his control-freak tendencies had pissed her off and it wouldn't be the last.

Still…

Quickly, he fired off a text demanding she check in with him before shoving his phone into his pocket and forcing himself to focus on the matter at hand. Liz had taken him to crime scene number two – a stretch of barren dirt road in the middle of freaking nowhere where the late summer heat had combined with the humidity to make the road and the surrounding forest feel like a tropical jungle. Fifty feet away on either side of him, police barricades blocked the flow of traffic, protecting the area from human contamination.

_Not that it matters, _he thought as he circled the six foot by six foot space within the barricades that had been cordoned off with crime scene tape. Weeks had passed since the body of the second victim had been discovered and whatever evidence had remained at the scene had long since succumbed to the elements.

"Victim number two was actually the third body we found," Liz said, indicating a vague area within the tape. "The autopsy confirmed it."

"And that's about all you can confirm," Damon commented dryly. The second crime scene was proving to be exactly like the first – a desolate road in the middle of nowhere, so far from civilization that the killer had been able to play out his twisted little games without the threat of discovery.

"I know," Liz replied with a sigh. "Does anything jump out at you? Anything at all?"

Scowling, he scanned the area, taking note of the encroaching trees that hugged the road. The scene was ordinary, similar to a million other rural roads he'd seen in his life. Despite the substantial amount of blood that had pooled around the victim in the crime scene photos, he could barely catch the metallic scent on the air. It had all soaked into the hard packed ground.

Still…there was _something _about the scenario that felt annoyingly familiar. He just couldn't place it.

Turning back to the sheriff, he shrugged. "I've got nothing."

Liz's shoulders sagged as she nodded, doing her best to mask her disappointment. Irritation coursed through him as he grappled with a sudden feeling of unwanted failure. "I'm not a detective, Liz. I'm not even a vampire expert. I don't know what you expect me to do here."

"I don't _expect _anything," she protested. "I was just hoping-."

His cell phone vibrated in his pocket and he leapt eagerly at the distraction. "Hold that thought," he ordered, ignoring her pained expression as he stepped away a few paces. Pulling out his phone, he rolled his eyes at the blunt text message.

"_Hi."_

Damon stared at the single word, torn between irritation and amusement. He'd called Elena at least half a dozen times, sent a slew of text messages and all she could offer him after a full day of silence was 'hi'? Taking a moment to consider his response, he typed.

"_Are your arms broken? You can text, but you can't pick up the phone?"_

"Damon, if you want to get to the rest of the crime scenes today, we should keep working," Liz said with barely contained impatience.

Returning the phone to his back pocket, he offered her his most disarming smile. "Relax, Liz. We've got plenty of time."

"I have other duties to perform," she reminded him, crossing her arms over her sheriff's uniform. "Other cases."

He smirked. "In Mystic Falls? What, did Mrs. Horton's tabby get stuck up a tree again?"

She glared at him for a moment before continuing. "Like I was saying, I know you're not a cop, but I was hoping-."

Damon's phone buzzed again and this time he didn't even bother to walk away. "I'm listening," he assured her, as he pulled the cell out of his pocket and took a quick glance at the message.

"_I'm at the library. They frown upon unnecessary disturbances."_

He didn't even try to hold back the snicker as he quickly replied to the text.

"_It's Labor Day. The library is closed." _

"Damon!"

"I know what you were hoping," he promptly declared, putting his phone away yet again and immediately focusing on the serial killer situation at hand. "And I told you I'd do what I can, but…look around, Liz. You're not giving me much to go on."

Pursing her lips, she sighed and gazed at the trees along the road as if they might hold the answers. "I know. I just need to catch this guy. If he sticks to the plan, his next victim should turn up some time today and I…Well, I'm not looking forward to adding victim number five to the list."

"Get used to it," he said, splitting his attention between her and his cell phone as he wondered what excuse Elena would devise next for not returning his calls.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that at this point victim number five is inevitable," he explained. "You have to know that. The killer is taking his sweet ass time with the torture, so he's probably caught his prey already."

"Are you done here?" Liz asked abruptly, refusing to acknowledge his point. "The third crime scene is about an hour away. We should get going."

"Lead the way," he replied, shoving the sleeves of his long-sleeved grey shirt above his elbows as he followed her to the squad car. Crime scene number three was on the other side of the county - another barren expanse of road. _Maybe this time it will be gravel, _he thought derisively.

Arriving at the car, Liz immediately opened the door and slid behind the wheel while Damon paused, looking at the scene one last time. The nagging sensation of déjà vu returned, taunting him from the very edges of his memory before disappearing once again. Shaking his head, he pulled his phone from his pocket and climbed into the passenger's seat.

Liz started the car, glancing at him from the corner of her eye as she performed a precise three-point turn and began the short trek down the dirt road. "I wish you would put your seatbelt on."

Damon smirked, tapping the phone on his knee. "Right, because in the event of a crash it will _totally _save my life."

"It looks bad for the sheriff to let her passenger flagrantly break the law."

"I think you have bigger things to worry about," he replied distractedly, eyeing his stubbornly silent phone. _What the hell is Elena doing? _Scowling at the small device, he leaned back in his seat.

Liz sighed, turning onto the highway and pressing her foot down on the accelerator. "Yeah, I know. My serial killer problem."

"I was thinking of Mrs. Horton's cat, but sure, we can go with yours," he said with a wink. She rolled her eyes, but the corners of her mouth lifted and she dropped the subject. They fell into an easy silence as he watched the scenery speed by, pleased that he'd been able to lighten the mood. He doubted he'd be able to do much else until the fifth body turned up. Then maybe - if they were extremely lucky - he'd be able to find something for Liz to go on.

The miles crept by slowly as Damon's attention shifted back to his _other _problem. The silent cell phone was like a time bomb and he gradually grew more and more tense as he waited for Elena to respond to him. Finally, he caved.

"_Elena!" _

This time she only made him wait a minute.

"_What?"_

_Fucking hell, _he groaned internally, briefly closing his eyes, unsure whether to laugh or scream. He could see the innocent expression on her face in his mind's eye, as if she were simply answering his questions and had no idea of the torture she was inflicting upon him.

It was going to be a very long few days.

* * *

_Stepping out of the shower, Damon's keen hearing immediately picked up on the buzzing of his cell phone. Drying off quickly, he wrapped the towel around his waist before he walking down the hallway to the bedroom he shared with Elena. The device was where he'd left it, on the nightstand next to the bed, and he picked it up, pressing a button to bring it to life._

What the hell?

_Eight texts. In the span of thirty minutes he'd received eight text messages and every single one of them was from Elena. Frowning, he hit another button and began reading._

"Made it to the bus stop in one piece."

"My bus was on time. Sweet."

"I'm getting off the bus now. Time for the walk across campus."

"Ugh. It's really humid out."

"What are your plans for the day?"

"I'm sitting in my usual seat. 11th row, center section, 2nd seat from the left aisle."

"Great. My professor's out today. I'm stuck with the TA."

"She's so boring. Zzzzzzzzz."

_The phone buzzed again as message number nine arrived._

"Damon, where the hell are you? I've sent you like, a dozen messages!"

_Amused and completely perplexed, he typed out a response._

"I just got out of the shower."

_Pressing 'send', he sat down on the bed and stared at his phone. He didn't have to wait long for her reply._

"Mmm, nice. Thank you for the lovely mental image."

"Anytime." _Damon smirked, hitting 'send' before tossing the phone onto the bed._ What the hell was that about?_ he wondered as he dressed. They kept in touch via text all the time, but she usually wasn't this…chatty._

_As the day wore on, however, Elena proved to be more than merely chatty. Every five to ten minutes his phone buzzed, announcing the arrival of yet another seemingly mundane text. She was dictating her every move as she went to her various classes, the library, and work. More than once he asked her what she was doing, or if something was wrong, but those texts never garnered a response._

_It wasn't until later that night, when she was still sending him updates on her activities as she sat next to him on the couch that he finally put it all together._

_This was revenge._

_"Really, Elena?" he asked, ignoring her latest comment about how the couch was so comfortable that she was falling asleep. Tapping his phone against his knee, he leaned back on the cushions and looked at her expectantly._

_"What?" she asked innocently, her cell phone resting on top of the open page of her Spanish text book, ready for her next missive._

_"Don't 'what' me, I know what you're doing," he insisted as she gazed at him with wide brown eyes._

_"I'm just keeping in touch," she replied as her lips curved into a mischievous smile. "Like you asked."_

_Damon shook his head, fighting the grin that threatened to overwhelm his features._ I should have seen this coming_, he thought as he inwardly kicked himself for taking so long to figure out that the constant communication was retaliation for his visit to her workplace the previous week. He should have picked up on it immediately, but Elena hadn't said another word about the fight and he'd assumed that she'd let it go._

And this is what I get for assuming, _he thought ruefully._

_Ducking her head, Elena let her hair fall over her shoulder to act as a barrier between them. He watched her study for a moment before pressing a button on his cell phone. Tapping the keys, he sent her a brief message._

"Point taken."

_Her pen froze as her phone chimed, alerting her to his text. Glancing at him, she carefully put down her pen and checked the message. Her lips twitched as she looked at him again before she carefully typed out a response. An instant later, his phone vibrated._

"I don't know what you're talking about."

_Damon raised a brow, quickly texting back._

"You'd better be careful. I could get used to it."

_Her phone chimed, but she waited a full minute before checking it. Keeping her features completely neutral, she fired off another message._

"Used to what?"

"Knowing what you're doing when I'm not with you."

"Because you're a paranoid control-freak?"

_He snickered, taking the accusation in stride. She wasn't wrong. He was completely paranoid when it came to her safety and he would do whatever he had to in order to keep her alive. It had been his job – defined him – for over two years and nothing she said would ever change that._

_Rather than darkening the mood by bringing up the drama they'd survived, however, he chose a different tactic._

"Because I'm kind of in love with you."

_She caught her breath, letting him know his response had had the desired effect, but otherwise gave away nothing as she read his latest text. Setting her phone aside, she continued studying for a moment before casually shifting on the couch to face him. She kept her nose buried in her textbook as she stretched out her legs to rest her feet in his lap._

_Damon looked down, wrapping a hand lightly around her ankle and gauging her reaction. When she didn't respond, he slipped his hand beneath the cuff of her yoga pants, working his way up the back of her calf in one slow, deliberate motion, meant to tease. He felt her pulse speed up as she glanced at him through narrowed eyes and reached for her phone. A few seconds later, his phone buzzed again._

"Stop distracting me. I have vocabulary to memorize."

_He smirked, typing and sending another message with one hand._

"I thought you were conjugating verbs."

_Elena let out an indignant gasp as she read his text and he reached the delicate skin just behind her knee. Glaring at him mutinously with wide eyes, she dug her heel into his thigh and tried to pull away, but he wouldn't let her. Tossing his phone aside, he grabbed her other leg and pulled her across the couch cushions until she was nearly in his lap._

_"Damon," she protested, leaning back on her hands and away from him as he planted a fist on either side of her hips, trapping her between his arms. "I have to study."_

_"You've studied enough," he replied, pulling the textbook out of her lap and letting it fall to the floor. Leaning in, he brushed a kiss over her lips. "I missed you."_

_"You've been with me all day," she argued, evading him by lowering herself to her elbows. "I sent you a million texts."_

_"Not the same," he said, stretching out over her on the couch and pinning her to the cushions. Brushing her hair away from her face, he lowered his head close enough to feel her breath on his lips._

_Feigning nonchalance despite her rapidly beating heart, she asked. "Did you have something else in mind?"_

_"Maybe," he replied before kissing her fully, tasting her in in a way he'd wanted to do every single time his goddamn phone had buzzed that day. She whimpered softly into his mouth, kissing him back as she brought her arms around his waist._

_Breaking away from her lips, he relished her breathless gasp as he turned his attention to the tender skin along her jaw. He worked his way to the sensitive spot behind her ear before continuing down her throat. Elena's chest was heaving, brushing against his with every breath as he lost himself in her scent and her silky smooth skin._

Bzzzzz_._

_Damon froze, lifting his head to stare at Elena in disbelief. She met his gaze without flinching, biting her lip to hold back a smile. Glancing over his shoulder he saw his phone on the coffee table, illuminated for a brief moment to signal the arrival of yet another text._

_"You've got to be kidding me," he groaned, letting his head fall to her shoulder. Reaching behind his back, he snatched her phone from her fingers before she could stop him._

_"Hey!"_

_Sitting up on his knees, he kept her legs immobile as he held her phone out of reach. "I can't believe you just sent me another text message."_

_"Don't you want to know what it says?" she asked, propping herself up on her elbows again._

_He tossed the phone over the edge of the couch, taking immense satisfaction in the way it shattered against the hardwood floor. Elena gaped at him in horror before hitting him ineffectually on the shoulder. "You just…I can't_ believe _you just did that. You broke my phone!"_

_"I'll buy you a new one," he replied, catching her hand and pulling her body flush against his. Nipping her lip, he grinned. "Now where were we?"_

_"If you think I'm going to kiss you again after that you're delusional, you jerk," she vowed, clutching at his biceps as he picked up where he'd left off at her neck. Unperturbed at her lack of response, he dragged his teeth over the pulse point on her throat until she moaned and sank into his embrace. "I hate you," she complained as her hands traveled up his arms so she could thread her fingers through his hair and pull his mouth up to hers._

_"I know, I'm an ass," he replied between kisses, easing her back down to the couch cushions. For the first time that day, he managed to get in the last word as she gave in and kissed him back._

_Later that night, after Elena had fallen asleep, Damon gently untangled himself from her embrace and climbed out of their bed. Silently, he made his way to the living room to retrieve his cell phone. Although he'd feigned indifference earlier, he really_ did_ want to know what she'd sent in her last text._

_Taking a seat on the couch, he picked up his phone and opened Elena's last message, unable to fight the smile that curved his lips at her words._

"I'm kind of in love with you, too."

* * *

The squad car took a left off of the highway onto a gravel road that obviously hadn't been maintained very well over the years. The wheels and axels of the vehicle groaned in complaint as they bounced over potholes and skidded on loose patches of gravel. Mercifully, the police barricades appeared on the horizon after only half a mile.

"Here we are," Liz announced, shifting the car into park and twisting the key.

"Fantastic," Damon muttered, offering her a tight-lipped smile as he climbed out of the passenger seat. Surveying the crime scene, he shoved his cell phone into his back pocket and sighed.

It looked like a fucking copy of the last one.

* * *

Tossing the dusty, old journal on to Alaric's cluttered dining room table, Damon scrubbed a hand over his face and scowled. "Why is it the Council can meticulously detail the minutes of every fucking meeting they've ever had, but they can't provide any useful information on how to track down a vampire serial killer?"

Alaric glanced up from the equally ancient journal he'd been perusing and raised a brow. "I don't know what you mean, Damon. I'm sure knowing how many times they broke for tea will help us catch the serial killer."

Rolling his eyes, the vampire rose from the table and crossed the room to the amply stocked bar in the corner. Plucking a bottle of bourbon from the collection of alcohol, he poured himself a double and raised it in toast to the hunter before taking a sip. It was Wednesday morning, three days since he'd seen Elena, two days past the deadline for the killer to deliver the next body and one day since he'd realized that it wasn't going to happen.

Not that he was keeping track of how much time he was wasting in his hometown or anything.

"The killer's gone, Ric," Damon announced abruptly, leaning against the bar. "Moved on."

"Oh, well in that case," Alaric rolled his eyes as he leaned back in his chair. "Should we just forget about the four victims?"

"No," he replied, taking a sip of his alcohol. "You should ID them, contact their families and tell them that they were the unfortunate victims of an," sneering, Damon made air quote motions with his hands, "animal attack. Then at your next Council meeting, you can write it all down in another journal."

"Your compassion is overwhelming," Alaric said dryly, returning his attention to the journal.

Damon snorted. "If Liz wanted compassion, she called the wrong brother."

"Last I saw, Stefan wasn't feeling very compassionate either."

"Good point," he allowed with a nod, taking another sip of bourbon. Stefan hadn't been ripping bodies asunder since the summer they'd killed Klaus, but he wasn't communing with the forest creatures either. As far as Damon could tell, being with Katherine had helped his brother find a kind of balance between the warring halves of his psyche.

_Not that I'm asking for details_. During the phone calls they shared every few months, Damon stuck to neutral topics that didn't involve the Petrova doppelgangers that had completely changed both of their lives.

Turning back to the bar, he found Alaric's favorite whiskey and began pouring him a drink. "Look, Ric, I just don't think this is such a big deal. It's not like the town knows it was a vampire. Most of the people in Mystic Falls still believe that animal attack line." A familiar buzzing filled the air as his phone vibrated on the dining room table. Glancing over his shoulder, he caught his friend eyeing it warily. Innocently, he asked. "You wanna get that?"

Alaric glared at him. "I will never touch your phone again. Never."

* * *

_Elena covered her mouth with her hand, stifling a yawn as she hunched over her European history textbook. The tiny words blurred together and she sighed, checking the time on her phone for the fifth time she desperately wished for her study group to be over. Alaric was due in town that afternoon – in a couple of hours actually – and she wanted to get back to the apartment so she could see him for five minutes before he and Damon went out._

_And she stayed home._

_Because she had to study._

I am so freaking sick of studying, _she thought, idly twirling her pen over the blank page in her notebook where she was supposed to be jotting down facts about the French Revolution._ Why does Ric have to visit during midterms?_ she wondered petulantly as she sank into a deep well of self-pity. The only silver lining to her weekend of grueling study plans was the fact that Damon had offered to cook for her. It wasn't the same as being able to go out with him and Alaric, but it was something._

_Glancing around at the rest of her group, she sighed again. They all looked so…_studious – _heads bowed over their books, pens flying over their college ruled notebook paper, half-empty cups of coffee at their elbows. Making a face, Elena leaned back in her seat and picked up her phone, sending a whiny text to Damon._

"Study group sucks. I'm bored."

_Every person at the table glared at her as her phone chimed with his nearly instantaneous response. Coloring slightly, she slouched in her seat and silenced her phone. Once they returned to their textbooks, she checked the message._

"Leave_."_

_Elena rolled her eyes and bit her lip to keep from pouting like a four year old as she contemplated her response. She couldn't just _leave_. She needed the extra-credit she received just for being a part of this group and any one of the students sitting at that table would rat her out in a second if she cut out early._

"I can't. Entertain me."

_Anticipation fluttered in her stomach the instant she hit 'send' as she wondered what kind of Pandora's Box she'd just opened. Asking Damon to entertain her without any kind of boundaries or rules was dangerous. Very, very dangerous. Time slowed as she waited eagerly for his response. Finally, what felt like an eternity later, her phone buzzed and she snatched it off of the table to check the message. He'd sent her a picture, the subject line reading:_ Making your dinner.

_"Oh, my god," she uttered, slapping her hand over her mouth before she could break out into a fit of laughter. The picture was a self-portrait, taken from an angle that allowed her to see that he was standing next to the stove in their kitchen – cooking completely naked. The caption was a single word._

"Hungry?"

_Closing her eyes, she held the phone tight to her chest and tried to rein in the giggles that were bubbling up from her chest. Her vampire boyfriend was a child – a one-hundred and seventy year old junior high school boy._

_Sneaking another peek at the picture that, even at the skewed angle, left_ nothing_ to the imagination, she amended her assessment._

Okay, definitely _not _a child.

Screw this, _she thought, gathering her books and shoving them into her backpack. Let the rest of the group tattle on her, she'd already sacrificed her entire evening to her studies. If she hurried she could get back to the apartment before Alaric arrived and spend some time with Damon before the weekend became all about entertaining her former teacher._

_Hoisting her bag up over her shoulder, she rushed out of the library. Maybe she could help cook..._

_Damon took Alaric to a dive bar in the heart of Atlanta after leaving a petulant Elena back at the apartment to cram for her midterms. The shots were cheap, but the selection was impressive and within an hour they'd settled into the kind of heavy drinking that used to signal an impending apocalypse._

_Tonight it was just Friday._

_Damon leaned on the scarred wood bar, signaling the bartender for another round. His phone buzzed at his elbow and he automatically checked it, knowing before he pressed a button that the message was from Elena. She'd started sending him forlorn texts the second he'd walked out of the door._

"When are you coming home?"

_He chuckled, shaking his head as he fired off a response._

"We just left. You're supposed to be studying."

_"Dear Damon," Alaric said in a sing-song voice, holding up his empty tumbler as he studied the neon glow of a Miller-Lite sign through the glass. "I miss you sooooo much. Leave Ric at the bar and come home to me. Love, Elena."_

_Glancing his way, the vampire raised a brow and set his phone back on the bar. "That's actually pretty close to what she said."_

_"I figured," he replied with a snort, handing his empty glass over to the bartender as he delivered their new drinks. "You two are joined at the hip. It's ridiculous."_

_"Jealous, Ric?" he asked as he took a sip of his bourbon. "Still looking for a woman to call your own who_ isn't_ a psycho?"_

_"I will have you know that I _have_ found someone," Alaric countered, turning slightly and bracing his elbow on the bar. "And she's not a psycho. She's a doctor."_

_"Does she know about vampires?" Damon asked._

_Alaric hesitated briefly before admitting. "Yes."_

_He grinned and took another sip before stating definitively. "Psycho."_

_"Whatever," Alaric muttered, knocking back half of his drink with an angry scowl that he didn't mean. "Her name is Meredith, since you asked. Meredith Fell."_

_"Meredith," he repeated, testing the name before shrugging. "Better than Sybil."_

_"Dick."_

_"What?" Damon asked, holding up his hands in mock innocence. "With your track record, I don't know if I should be warning you or her. Maybe it's not the women, Ric. Maybe it's just you."_

_"You know I think I liked you better when you were all angsty and unrequited," the hunter replied. "Ever since Elena lost her mind and decided she loved you, you've reached new levels of smug and annoying."_

_"I had no idea that was even possible," he countered, grinning with all the arrogance he could muster. Alaric rolled his eyes, his drink halfway to his lips, when Damon's phone buzzed and he snatched it off of the bar before the vampire made a move to pick it up._

_"This is stupid, just tell Elena to come join us," he said as he tapped a button, bringing the screen to life. A split-second later he'd released the phone as if it had burned him, covering his eyes with one hand and uttering a strained. "Jesus Christ."_

_Damon caught the phone before it crashed to the floor, frowning at his friend. "What?"_

_"I can't…I just…I'll never_ unsee _that," the former vampire hunter stated emphatically, his tanned skin turning crimson in the dim light of the bar as he waved in the general direction of the cell phone._

_"What the hell are you…oh," Damon's question died on his lips as he opened Elena's latest message. She'd sent him a picture and from the looks of it, she'd decided to get him back for the one he'd sent that afternoon._

Holy. Shit.

_Stretched out on their bed, lying on her stomach, Elena grinned at him from the tiny screen. The innocent smile curving her lips and the wicked gleam in her eye combined with the vast expanse of smooth, _naked_ skin, sent all the blood in his system straight to his groin. Propped up on her elbows, her breasts were on display save for the very tips that were hidden behind her hair and a textbook. His gaze traveled down the line of her back over the sweet curve of her perfect backside and all the way to her toes._

_The caption below the picture warned:_ Don't stay out too late.

_He typed a response with numb, clumsy fingers._

"Not. A. Problem."

_"Don't you dare tell her I saw that," Alaric begged, still hiding his face in his hand._

_"Are you fucking kidding?" Damon scoffed as he shoved his phone into his back pocket – far, far out of his friend's grasp – and knocked back the rest of his bourbon. "She'd never send me another one."_

* * *

Snickering, Damon returned to the table and set Alaric's drink on a small corner of uncluttered space before picking up his now silent phone. _Right on time, _he thought as he checked the message from Elena.

"_So, guess what."_

He raised a brow and responded with the obvious.

"_?" _

A few seconds later, she replied.

"_I woke up this morning and you still weren't here." _

The text was accompanied by a photo of his empty side of the bed. Despite his amusement, he felt an intense stab of longing.

"_I'd rather be there with you."_

A few seconds later, she sent another picture message. He frowned at the image of a corporate pencil pusher sprawled across two first class seats on an airplane. The man was asleep, mouth hanging open, drool on his chin and his glasses pressing awkwardly into the side of his face. The caption beneath the picture read: _It's okay. My new boyfriend won't abandon me._

Although he knew she was just teasing him, Damon groaned, rolling his eyes as he punched at the keypad.

"_I did NOT abandon you!" _

"Don't tell me," Alaric said without lifting his gaze from the journal as he ignored the offered glass of whiskey. "Trouble in paradise?"

"Shut up," he muttered. "Elena's not exactly happy with me for staying here."

"My heart bleeds," the other man replied, as he turned a page and squinted at the cramped, flowery cursive.

Damon sighed, setting his phone back on the table and staring at it for a few more minutes before picking up yet another dusty journal. _This is pointless. _The slim chance he'd had of offering any insight had been reduced to nothing by the failure of the killer to produce another victim. He missed Elena more than he would have thought possible and he was beyond ready to go back to Atlanta.

But he'd made a promise to Liz, and the sheriff was one of the few humans he actually respected.

_Forty-eight more hours, _he thought grimly, pushing aside his growing discontent and uneasiness. He'd give Liz the five days he'd promised, but not one second more. After that he'd put Mystic Falls in his rearview and hope like hell that it would be more than two years before he had to see it again.


	5. Off Profile

_**A hand on his arm stopped him before he could take a single step. "This won't bring her back."**_

_**Damon wrenched away, shouting. "He has to die."**_

Chapter Five – Off Profile

Damon leaned against the wall by the window in the living room of his family home, watching the sun rise as he sipped blood from a crystal tumbler. It was Thursday morning – four days since he'd said goodbye to Elena, three past the serial killer's body drop deadline, and two since every avenue of inquiry had been exhausted and he'd realized his continued presence in Mystic Falls had become an utter waste of time.

Not that he was keeping track or anything.

He'd spent two days covering crime scenes with Sheriff Forbes and a solid day and a half going over evidence at the police station. The rest of the time, he'd been holed up with Alaric in his apartment pouring over Council records on the off chance that the current vampire blight plaguing Mystic Falls was similar to one they'd dealt with in the past.

It hadn't been.

Damon's role had been reduced by necessity – or lack thereof – to one of sitting around and…waiting.

And he _hated_ waiting.

He also hated being away from Elena for no goddamn reason. He hadn't heard her voice since Sunday and he missed it – missed _her_ – and he was more than ready to call it quits on the Sherlock Holmes routine and go home.

On the other side of the living room, his cell phone rested innocently on the bar where it had been taunting him all night, like an annoying thorn in his side. He hadn't heard from Elena in over twenty-four hours. She'd made the dig about her 'new boyfriend' and apparently remembered that she was supposed to be mad at him. He'd lost track of the number of texts and voice messages he'd left her before he'd grown disgusted with himself and stopped around midnight.

The hours had passed slowly and silently, marked by a growing sense of unease that something was wrong. At four o'clock in the morning, his paranoia had gotten the best of him and he'd called her, groaning when her phone had gone straight to voicemail.

She'd let the damn thing die. _Again._

_This is so fucking stupid, _he thought, turning away from the window as he made his way to the couch and stretched out on the cushions. Scowling, he continued to sip the blood as he stared into the empty fireplace. The real problem with Elena's lack of communication was the reason behind it. He knew she was irritated, knew that she was ignoring him on purpose, and it brought out his competitive edge. She was distracting him, prompting him to focus his energy on getting her to respond rather than what he was supposed to be doing in Mystic Falls. He'd been unable to stop thinking about her long enough to pinpoint exactly why the crime scenes had felt so familiar.

The whole situation was driving him crazy.

Suddenly, his phone began to buzz, vibrating on the bar as two text messages arrived almost simultaneously. Startled by the sound after so much silence, Damon stared at it in disbelief for a moment before blurring across the room and snatching it up. Much to his disappointment – although _not _to his surprise – neither message was from Elena. Liz and Ric had both texted to let him know that there had been no bodies discovered during the night. Frustrated, he deleted the messages. The serial killer was either going through a hell of a dry spell or he'd moved on.

Damon wasn't sure which theory he preferred.

On the one hand, if the killer _had_ moved on, Liz would be off the hook. The murders could be filed away with the rest of the unfortunate animal attacks. On the other, he felt a lot better about Elena being alone in Atlanta with an unknown killer terrorizing Mystic Falls – it was one less life-threatening vortex of trouble for her to be drawn into.

Irritated and edgy, he tapped the phone against his open palm, counting the hours until the five days he'd promised Liz ran out. Technically, he had eighteen to go before midnight and the Friday deadline arrived.

He really didn't see the point in staying to see it through.

_Screw this, _he decided, pressing a button on his phone and calling Elena. "You win," he declared immediately after her cheery voice told him to leave a message and she'd get back to him. "I'm coming home."

Slipping his phone into his back pocket, he quickly downed the rest of the blood before blurring up the stairs to his bedroom to pack his belongings. Conducting a cursory sweep of the room to make sure he hadn't forgotten anything, he called Liz to leave a message on her voicemail.

"I know I promised another day," he said, checking his pocket for his car keys before heading back downstairs. "But I think we can both agree that this is pointless. See you later, Liz." He briefly considered telling her to call him if any other bodies turned up, but he hung up instead. The sheriff would call if the situation warranted and he really didn't want to put ideas into her head if it didn't.

Pocketing his phone as he crossed the foyer, he threw open the front door, nearly mowing a surprised Bonnie Bennett over in the process.

"Damon!" she gasped as she stumbled backwards a few steps, her arm still raised as if to knock on the front door.

Startled, he froze, hovering in the doorway with his hand still resting on the doorknob. He glanced around the front yard before stating warily. "Elena's back in Atlanta."

"I-I know," she stammered, brushing strands of hair out of her face.

He waited for further explanation before raising a brow and asking. "Then what the hell are you doing here?"

"I'm here to see you. To…apologize," she replied, adjusting the strap of her purse on her shoulder as she grimaced. "Shocking, I know."

Closing the door, he took his time locking it as he debated the merits of blurring around her to get to his car. A conversation with Bonnie Bennett had never been high on his list of fun things to do and after what had happened at the party, he was even less interested than usual. Facing her, he shrugged. "I already got the message. Apology accepted."

"Damon, please," Bonnie said, holding up a hand and mirroring his movements as he tried to step around her.

"Alright," he sighed, biting back a growl of impatience. "What is it, Bonnie?"

"I know that you and I have never really been…friends," she began, doing a fairly decent job of meeting and holding his gaze. "I really didn't think you and Elena had a shot in hell, but it's been three years. Obviously, I was…I was wrong."

Damon started. "I'm sorry, I don't think I heard that right," he said, taking advantage of her brief pause as he looked at her through narrowed eyes. "Did you just say you were wro-."

"I was _wrong_, Damon," she said, pressing her lips into an annoyed line.

"Just checking," he said with a smirk, suddenly more intrigued than annoyed.

"Are you done?" she asked, raising a perfectly sculpted brow.

He waited a beat before replying. "Yup."

"Thank you," she said, pausing once again as if to gather her thoughts. Her gaze wandered as she spoke, resting on some point over his shoulder. "I asked Elena if she was…if she'd been turned because I stopped having the dream. That's it. There was no other agenda."

Considering her legendary anti-vampire – or more specifically anti-_him_ – stance, he'd found that hard to believe when Elena had first told him and still doubted its validity. Letting it slide with a casual shrug, he said. "I get that. Elena told me. It's fine, really. Now, I need to get going."

He made it past her and halfway down the sidewalk before she ran after him and grabbed his arm. "I'm not done."

"Then spit it out," he said, whirling around and pulling out of her grasp. "Jesus, Bonnie, just say whatever you have to say."

"Okay!" she cried, crossing her arms tight across her chest as she glared at him. "Okay, I just don't want you to think that I think you're pressuring Elena or that if…_when _she turns that it will be a bad thing. I may not…agree with it," she continued vaguely. "But she's my best friend and she loves you. Obviously, you love her and that's… that's what matters, Damon. I know she apologized for me, but I…I wanted you to hear it from me, too."

Shocked yet again, he stared at her. Of all the things she could have said or done, essentially giving him her blessing to turn her best friend into a vampire hadn't crossed his mind. Dropping her gaze to the ground, Bonnie shifted before muttering an awkward goodbye and trying to skirt around him.

"Bonnie," he said, stopping her in her tracks. _I'm going to regret this, _he thought, but he wasn't petty enough to let her worry that his reaction at the party had been solely because of her. He waited for her to look back at him before continuing. "It wasn't about you this time."

"What do you mean?"

He blew out a breath, catching up with her and walking slowly toward the Camaro. "The whole turning thing, it's…something we argue about. A lot."

"I don't understand," she replied, her brow furrowing. "Elena makes it sound like it's just a matter of time."

"I'm sure she does," he murmured grimly, slipping the key into the trunk lock and popping the lid. He put his bag inside, dragging out the task as he debated the merits of revealing the whole truth to a woman who could fry his brain with her mind. Closing the lid, he shrugged with forced nonchalance. "The short version is that Elena's for…and I'm against."

* * *

"I'm not ready to kill you, Elena."

_There. He'd said it. The confession hung in the air, a living, breathing_ thing_ that he couldn't take back. Part of him wanted to. Part of him wanted to say_ wait, no, that's not quite right, _but it was. It was exactly right. _

_Damon wasn't ready to end Elena's life. _

_The very idea went against everything he'd done almost from the minute he'd met her. Even in the beginning, when she'd been with Stefan and he'd seen her as little more than a copy of Katherine, keeping Elena alive had been the motivation behind his every decision. _

_And now he was supposed to not only stop, but take it a step further and actually_ kill_ her_.

_Elena stared at him, a wealth of emotions playing over her features – hope, disappointment, confusion, frustration – but she didn't pull away. Dropping her gaze to the base of his throat, she swallowed and repeated what he'd said. "You're not ready to kill me." _

_Remaining silent, he shook his head once in confirmation. The words had spoken for themselves and now it was her turn. _

"_But…I'm not afraid, Damon," she assured him, lifting her gaze, eyes wide with understanding. "If that's what you're worried about, I'm not afraid of that. I talked to Jeremy, he said he didn't even feel it –."_

"_You've talked to Jeremy," he repeated incredulously. "About this?"_

"_No, not about_ this_," she replied immediately. "This was years ago. After you'd…" she paused, looking away as he completed the thought in his head. _After I_ killed_ him_. The memory still ranked as one of the worst mistakes of his existence. Shifting tracks, she met his eye and continued. "He_ died_, Damon. I asked him what it was like and he said that…that it was nothing, you know? There was no pain when you-."_

"_That's not-that's not the point," he interrupted, framing her face with his hands and effectively silencing her. Her brown eyes searched his face, wide and desperate to understand. Gathering himself before he spiraled completely out of control, he took a breath. "Jeremy's right. If I…do it like that, it's so fast you won't feel a thing." Briefly, he closed his eyes before adding. "But…I will." _

_Elena's features softened as comprehension began to dawn behind her eyes. "Damon…"_

"_I'll have to watch you die, feel the life leave your body and then…I'll have to wait," he explained, feeling the tendrils of panic grip at him just thinking about it. "And wonder if it's going to work or if I've just destroyed the only thing in my life that's ever mattered to me. That's the part I can't…"_

_He stopped, unable to voice his weakness in the face of the fearless, human girl who was ready to give up her humanity for him – to be with him forever – even though _he _was afraid to make the final jump. It was everything he'd wanted as a lovestruck boy one hundred and seventy years ago and now he couldn't take the plunge._

_He was such a fucking coward. _

"_How long would it take?" she asked softly, circling his wrist with her delicate fingers. "Before I woke up?"_

"_It varies," he replied, thinking back to the humans he'd seen turned or turned himself. "Sometimes it's only a few hours…sometimes it takes a full day. I've never been able to predict it."_

_She nodded, her eyes shining with tears as she licked her lips and took a deep breath. A small measure of relief coursed through him as he realized that at least she seemed to understand. "Will you ever be ready, Damon?"_

"_No," he answered immediately – honestly – as he braced himself for her reaction._

_Elena stared at him, disappointment flashing in her eyes as they filled with more tears. Biting her lip to keep it from trembling, she tightened her grip on his wrist. _

"_Okay," she said, swallowing thickly. _

"_Okay?" Damon repeated in surprise, brushing away an errant tear that had slipped down her cheek. "What do you mean 'okay'?"_

"_I mean it's_ okay_," she repeated, sliding her hand up his arm. Taking a deep breath, she said. "You don't have to do it. There's more than one way to die and I can do it my-."_

"_Jesus,_ Elena_!" he cried, releasing her and stalking away before he lost his temper and gave her exactly what she wanted. "I told you, do_ not_ blackmail me-."_

"_I'm not," she insisted, quickly following him and reaching for him. Taking his face between her palms, she coaxed him back to her. "I'm not, Damon, I swear. This isn't a trick to get you to cave. I want you to be the one to help me turn, but if you won't…" she shrugged, resolved despite the tears. "I've made up my mind." _

Fuck_._ _He glared at her for a moment before groaning and scrubbing his hands over his face._ God, I need to get over this._ He recognized the look on her face. She was serious and more determined than ever to see it through. Could he really let her do it alone? _

No way in hell.

"_Give me more time," he finally stated. The only thing he feared more than ending her life and the interminable wait for her to wake up again was the prospect of someday having to say goodbye to her as she succumbed to her own mortality. _

"_How much time?" _

"_I…don't know," he replied, gesturing vaguely. A week, a month, a year… How much time would he need to come to terms with what had to be done? "But I will keep my promise, Elena. Just don't do anything stupid." _

_Regarding him evenly with clear eyes despite her tear-stained cheeks, she nodded. "I can give you more time," she said as his shoulders sagged in relief and the tension and stress began to melt from his body. Holding up a warning finger, she cautioned. "But if I turn thirty and I'm still human, all bets are off. I don't want to spend eternity old and wrinkly." _

"_Wrinkles are sexy," he said, raising a brow as he wrapped an arm around her waist. "I happen to like older women."_

_She made a face, punching him lightly on the arm. "You just like women," she said as he caught her wrist and held it against his chest. "Period."_

"_Yeah, but I only love one of them," he promised as he captured her mouth in a kiss. _

* * *

Bonnie gaped at him. "You're against? But I-."

"I appreciate the apology, Bonnie," Damon interrupted, making his way to the driver's side in a hurried attempt to put an end to the awkward conversation. "But I've really got to go."

"Alright," she replied with a helpless shrug, backing away from the Camaro. "Tell Elena I said hello."

"No problem."

"Oh, and tell her to turn on her cell phone," she added, crossing her arms against a sudden breeze that carried a hint of fall. "It's been going straight to voicemail since yesterday morning."

Damon froze, his arm braced on the open car door. Elena had probably just forgotten to charge her phone. Or she'd charged it and forgotten to turn it back on, but the fact that Bonnie hadn't been able to get a hold of her either sent a sharp spike of apprehension through his gut.

"I will," he promised with a nod as he slid behind the steering wheel. He felt Bonnie watching him as the car roared to life and he backed down the driveway.

_Believe me, I will._

* * *

Damon's cell phone burned a hole in his pocket on the uneventful drive from Mystic Falls to Atlanta. Every minute felt like a lifetime, stretching out into eternity as he did everything in his power _not _to call Elena every five seconds. They'd played this game so many times before and he was determined not to fall into the usual traps.

_Everything's fine, _he told himself for the millionth time as the Atlanta skyline finally appeared, stretching out on the horizon. Glancing at the clock, he saw to his surprise that it had been an hour since his last unsuccessful attempt to reach her. Ignoring the road, he pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and hit number one on the speed dial.

"_You've reached my cell phone. Leave a message and I'll get back to you as-."_

Scowling, he ended the call and tossed the irritating device onto the passenger seat.

_Something is wrong._

The thought nagged at him as he smoothly navigated the familiar streets. He couldn't remember a time when Elena had forgotten about her phone for this long. A few hours, sure, but it had been well over twenty-four since anybody had been able to reach against the setting sun, he pulled into a parking spot behind their building and killed the engine. He left his bag in the trunk as he pocketed the keys and made his way inside, bypassing the elevator and blurring up the seldom-used staircase to the third floor. A small measure of relief coursed through him as he assessed the locked front door of their apartment and saw no signs of forced entry.

_Christ, I spend one week with Liz and I'm thinking in cop terms, _he thought as he unlocked the door and slipped inside.

"Elena?" he called, closing the door behind him. The apartment answered back with a ringing silence that felt particularly loud to his sensitive ears. Searching each room, it didn't take him long to realize that she wasn't there.

_Which is fine, _he told himself as he surveyed the rumpled sheets on their unmade bed. Thursday evenings she worked at a coffee shop only a couple of miles away. _Fantastic. _Unable to get over their first meeting two years ago when he'd burst in looking for Elena, her coworkers hated him. While he couldn't have cared less, it did make the prospect of getting information from them inordinately tasking.

Eager to get it over with, Damon went back down the hallway to the living room and almost tripped over Elena's backpack. Lying on the floor by the wall that separated the kitchen and the hallway, it wasn't in the way so much as…unexpected. She usually left her bag near the last spot she'd been studying – their room, the couch, the kitchen table.

And she always brought it with her to work.

_Shit. _

The relief he'd felt upon finding their apartment undisturbed soured as he picked up the backpack and carried it to the kitchen counter. Rifling through the contents, he failed to find her phone or her keys – which was a good thing – but did locate her wallet and ID.

Which was a bad thing.

Definitely a bad thing.

_You're being paranoid. _Elena's voice echoed in his head, repeating the words that had become a mantra over the past three years. Staring at her textbooks and folders, he tried to convince himself that there was a perfectly logical explanation. Maybe she'd forgotten something and had to hurry home after class. In a rush, she'd grabbed her cell phone, keys and ran back out the door. That was possible. She didn't _need _her wallet or ID and the apartment had been locked. Clinging to that fragile reassurance, he zipped the bag and headed out the front door.

His cell phone rang as he slid behind the wheel of the Camaro and his heart sank a little as Alaric's name flashed across the screen. Masking his disappointment, he answered. "Hello, Ric. Miss me already?"

"So, I hear you're back in Atlanta," he replied by way of greeting. "Thanks for the heartfelt goodbye."

"I thought about calling, but it was just too emotional," Damon commented dryly, pulling out of his parking spot.

"I'm sure," Alaric muttered. "Have you talked to Elena? I've been trying to get a hold of her, but her phone's been off."

_No shit. _Gripping the phone tighter, he drove far too quickly for the residential streets. "She's working. I'm on my way there right now."

"Tell her to give me a call. She got some paperwork in the mail today about her trust fund."

"I'll do that," he promised. _Right after I yell at her for not keeping her fucking phone on. _"Hey, I forgot. Elena wants you to come down for Thanksgiving. She plans on cooking this big dinner – which means I'll be cooking this big dinner – and I was supposed to tell you."

"With an invitation like that, how can I refuse?"

"Great," he replied, distracted as he turned into the coffee shop's small parking lot. Looking through the windows, he scanned the faces on the other side of the glass as he parked the car. "Gotta go."

Climbing out of the vehicle, Damon ended the call before his friend had a chance to say goodbye and made his way into the coffee shop. The barista behind the counter looked up as a bell above the door chimed, signaling his entrance. Instantly, she scowled and the temperature in the room dropped a solid ten degrees. He rolled his eyes.

_This is going to be fun._

Sauntering up to the counter, he watched impatiently as she plastered a fake smile on her face and gave a waiting customer his overpriced coffee. Turning her back on him, she took her time wiping down the machines and the stainless steel countertop. Finally, when she had nothing else to hide behind, she set her jaw and addressed him.

"Can I help you with something?" she asked with thinly veiled hostility.

"I'm sure you can…_Gretchen,_" Damon said, utilizing every ounce of his considerable charm as he glanced at her nametag. Leaning on the counter, he added conspiratorially. "I need to talk to Elena."

"I don't know where she is," Gretchen replied immediately without so much as a cursory glance around the establishment.

"Is she on a break?"

"Maybe," the girl replied defiantly. "I'm not in the habit of telling strangers where my coworkers are."

_I just love this place,_ he thought derisively, barely keeping a handle on his temper. "You need to make an exception."

"I don't think so," she countered, bracing her arms on the counter and leaning toward him. "Now why don't you leave before-."

"Tell me where Elena is," Damon ordered, grabbing her wrist and using compulsion to force the truth out of her. He didn't have time for this bullshit. "Now."

Gretchen gasped as her expression softened and her pupils dilated under the sudden force behind his words. Immediately, she said. "I don't know."

"_Gretchen_," he cautioned, tightening his grip and pushing the compulsion at her harder. "Don't lie to me."

"I'm not," she promised. "She didn't show up for her shift today. I figured _you _hadn't let her out of the house or something."

"She didn't show up?" Damon repeated, ignoring the insult as the fragile threads of his rational thinking began to snap. "What do you mean 'she didn't show up'?"

"Exactly what I said," the barista replied. "Elena never came to work today – or yesterday, either. Which totally sucks because I've had to handle the rush both nights by myself and we were really busy since classes just started again-."

"Shut up," he ordered softly, absently pushing another burst of compulsion at her and causing her to close her mouth with an audible click. His mind raced as he kept his hand locked around the barista's wrist. Elena didn't just 'not show up' – she didn't miss classes or work or _anything _unless she had a damn good reason. Angry or not, she would have called if something had happened.

Releasing Gretchen's wrist, he left the coffee shop without another word, automatically reaching for his phone and calling Elena again. Fighting panic, he listened to her entire message, his chest tightening painfully at the upbeat greeting.

"Elena, you need to call me now," he ordered, fighting the sinking certainty that the effort was futile. She hadn't returned his last dozen calls, why would she do it now? Climbing into the Camaro, he gripped the steering wheel, closing his eyes as he added a ragged. "Please."

Breaking every traffic law in the book, he sped toward campus and parked illegally near the library. With his phone clutched tightly in his hand, he thoroughly searched the empty stacks before making a quick tour of the rest of the campus. He didn't care anymore if she thought he was paranoid and overbearing – at this point, he'd welcome another round of _that _particular fight – he just wanted to find her.

An hour later, pissed off and empty-handed, he got back behind the wheel and headed back to the apartment. He didn't expect to find her there, but it was the only place he could think of to go. _Maybe I missed something, _he thought as the tires of the Camaro squealed around a tight corner. Maybe she'd left a clue or some sign as to what had happened.

_Or who took her, _he thought grimly, pulling back into the same parking space and jerking to a stop. Leaping out of the vehicle, he utilized his vampiric speed as he raced back up to the third floor. With Herculean control, he managed to take the time to unlock the door, rather than breaking the damn thing down in his haste.

His phone rang as he stood in the doorway, surveying the apartment with a critical eye. The brief surge of hope that coursed through him was immediately squashed upon seeing the name flashing across the screen. Scowling, he jabbed a button and barked. "Now is not the fucking time, Bonnie."

"Wow, hello to you, too," the witch replied indignantly. As usual, their brief venture into common ground and understanding had fallen victim to their ingrained mutual animosity. "You wouldn't have to speak to me at all if you'd asked Elena to turn on her phone like I asked. I need to talk to her."

_That makes two of us, _he thought, stepping into the apartment and closing the door behind him. His impression from earlier – that everything looked perfectly normal – still stood. Other than the weird place she'd left her backpack, there were no signs of a struggle.

"Damon?"

"What?" he snapped, taking a slow tour of the living room area, studying every inch.

"Can I talk to Elena?"

"Why?"

"What do you mean 'why'?" she demanded. "She's my friend, you asshole, I don't need your permission."

"Apparently, you do," he replied, moving on to the kitchen.

"Goddamit, Damon," she muttered, her sigh of frustration carrying over the line.

"What do you want, Bonnie?" he asked, biting off each word with careful precision.

"I had the dream again, alright?" she cried in exasperation. "Are you happy now?"

He stilled in the darkened hallway on his way to the bedroom. "I thought the dream was gone."

"Apparently, it's back," she said, mimicking his words as acid dripped from her snide tone. "And it's worse."

"Worse?"

"More vivid," she explained. "And detailed."

Convincing himself that Bonnie's dream was a bunch of post-traumatic-stress induced bullshit hadn't been a difficult task. Instinct had told him it was crap three years ago when he'd first heard about it and had continued to do so every time since. He'd learned to trust and rely on his instincts over the years and in return they'd kept him alive – and more importantly, they'd kept Elena alive.

_What if I was wrong?_

"Tell me about it," he demanded, continuing his search into the spare bedroom.

"Why? So you can bitch at me for freaking Elena out with my hysterical fantasies?"

"No, because I can't fucking find her," he finally admitted, clutching the phone so tightly the plastic whined from the strain. He could feel Bonnie's mood shift through the line as if she were standing in the apartment with him.

"What do you mean?" she asked quietly, confusion and panic seeping into her voice. "Where is-."

"The dream, Bonnie," he repeated, knowing – hoping – it was a long shot that he'd find any answers.

"I, um…Okay. It started out the same," the witch began, quickly relating the familiar story. Using the last threads of his patience, he kept his mouth shut through the details he'd heard a million times – the woods at night, an unfamiliar clearing with a soaring cliff, Elena falling through the air, landing on the jagged rocks before waking up a vampire.

"I thought you said there were more details," he said, when she'd reached the end.

"There _are,_" she insisted. "For one thing, you're there. I always felt another presence, but I didn't know it was you."

"How does that help me?"

"I don't know," she exclaimed. "But you're there and you're…you're more freaked out than I am."

_That I believe. _"What else?"

"Um…The cliff looked a little different this time. Familiar, I think it's near Mystic Falls because I'm pretty sure I've seen it," Bonnie relayed absently as she wracked her brain for more details. "Elena's wearing a white dress. Oh, and I'm pretty sure it's summer because everything is green and it-."

_Wait a minute, _Damon blinked as a detail clicked sluggishly into place. _Fuck. _"Stop," he commanded softly.

She broke off midsentence. "Damon?" she asked after a pause. "Did something…did you figure something out?"

"I've got to go," he murmured, hurrying down the hallway toward the bedroom.

"No, Damon – wait!"

"I'll call you back," he promised, hanging up before she could argue. _There's no fucking way…_Denials circled through his brain as he scrolled through his recent calls. Tapping a button, he entered the bedroom and headed straight for the walk-in closet.

Liz answered on the second ring. "Sheriff Forbes."

"What were the victims wearing?" he demanded immediately.

"Damon?" she asked, bewildered. "What are you-."

"The victims. What were they wearing?" he repeated, nearly tripping over a pair of Elena's shoes that were lying in the middle of the floor. Reaching for the light switch, he stared at the haphazard pile. It was as if she'd stepped out of them in mid-stride. "What color?"

"I, um…" Liz floundered for a moment as he moved on. The black pants Elena typically wore to the coffee shop were next, followed by her socks. Clearing her throat, she said. "They were wearing white, I think."

"You _think_?"

"I'm certain," she replied with more confidence. "The women were wearing white dresses and the men white shirts – one with jeans, the other with-."

"Fuck," he cursed, crouching down and curling his fingers around the uniform shirt lying on the floor at the very back of the closet. The magnetic badge bearing her name was still attached.

"Damon, what's wrong?"

"You don't have to worry about the killer anymore," he said hollowly, scanning the clothes hanging neatly from the wooden rod even though he knew he wouldn't find the one he was looking for. He didn't have her entire wardrobe memorized, but he'd been sharing a closet with her for two years. As he expected, there was an empty hanger dangling at the back by her dresses.

"How do you know?"

"Because he's moved on to Atlanta," he replied, sinking to the floor and leaning against the back of the closet as he rubbed Elena's shirt between his fingers. Sheriff Forbes' voice buzzed like a gnat on the edge of his consciousness.

"Moved on?" she repeated incredulously. "What do you mean, he's moved on? How do you know?"

"I should have figured it out," he replied absently, letting his head fall back against the wall with a hollow thud. "I should have fucking guessed."

* * *

_Looking at the woman in white standing in the middle of the deserted gravel road, Damon's attention was torn between her disturbingly steady heartbeat and Elena's fluttery pulse. He could feel it racing as she clung to his hand. Any other day his entire being would have been focused on that connection as he wondered what it meant and what he could do to prolong the experience for as long as possible. _

_Now, he just wanted to keep her alive. _

"_She's been compelled?" Elena asked in a small voice that demanded his full attention. Tearing his gaze away from the woman in white, he saw Elena's hand fly to her bare throat as she took an unconscious step closer to him. _

Shit_, he groaned inwardly, briefly closing his eyes as he remembered her vervaine necklace had disappeared around the same time as Stefan. He hated the damn thing with a passion, but in that moment, he vehemently wished he had it to give back to her again. _

"_Are you still taking vervaine?" he demanded, his sharp voice making her jump. Her jerky nod to the affirmative brought him a modicum of relief. Turning his attention back to the frozen statue of a human being, he muttered. "Good." _

_The woman stared straight ahead without acknowledging their presence. She didn't move, didn't even blink to signal a living soul existed behind her vacant green eyes. Her long hair was blonde, so white it almost matched the pallor of her skin. A gentle breeze swept down the road, making the hem of her white dress dance around her dirty, bloodied feet. Next to him, Elena shivered, stepping closer and wrapping her other hand around his forearm. _

_Damon glanced down at the top of her head, feeling helpless next to the fear he could feel radiating off of her entire body. He knew there was something about compulsion that scared her more than anything else she'd ever faced. He didn't understand why and at the moment, he didn't care – he just wanted to get the information they needed and get her the hell out of there unscathed. _

_He doubted he'd get his wish._

"_Beautiful, isn't she?"_

_Elena screamed, cutting off the sound with her hand as she leapt away from the owner of the voice that had crept up on them on silent feet. Damon caught her before she could run for the woods, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her close. Her heartbeat raced like a freight train, making her tremble violently in his arms as her back collided with his chest. He'd never seen her so terrified and it was beginning to put him on edge. _

"_I've got you," Damon promised, his lips brushing her ear as he tightened his hold on her. Raising his voice, he addressed the smirking blonde vampire who stood before them. "Nice entrance, Landis."_

* * *

_But how? _Damon argued with himself. How could he have known that Landis would return to fuck with him three years after their first meeting in over eight decades? That interaction had been insignificant – or so he'd assumed – an information exchange that he'd forgotten the second it was over. It wasn't enough to merit a bloody rampage and kidnapping Elena…was it?

Obviously, he decided, glancing up at the empty hanger, it was.

His phone beeped, signaling an incoming call. Numb, he checked the caller ID, surging to his feet when he saw Elena's name flashing across the screen. Relief spread through him as he hung up on Liz without saying goodbye. It was all a coincidence. Elena was fine. She'd offer him some lame excuse as to why she'd been unreachable for over twenty-four hours, he'd yell at her and everything would be fine.

"Elena, where the hell have you been?" he demanded, picking up the incoming call. "Why was your goddamn phone off?"

The silence on the other end sent a warning chill up his spine. Closing his eyes, he listened – hard – for the slightest sound, but he couldn't even detect the whisper of her breath.

"I'm afraid Elena's a little…unconscious," a familiar voice replied as the fragile spark of hope sputtered and died as quickly as it had flared up. "But not to worry. I'm sure she'll wake up soon."

The backs of Damon's knees hit the bed and he sank to the mattress, certainty and terror racing through him in equal measure. For three years, he'd been waiting for something like this to happen, guarding against the inevitable _next time_ when something supernatural invaded and threatened Elena's life. His vigilance had driven her crazy, straining their relationship at times, but she'd understood. At the end of the day, she'd accepted that he was only doing what he had to in order to keep her safe.

_For all of the fucking good it did._

"Landis," he croaked, lowering his forehead to the fist that was still clutching Elena's shirt. Her scent wrapped around him, threatening to undo him and he tossed it aside before he became utterly useless. Running a hand through his hair, he kept his voice remarkably calm as he demanded. "What do you want?"

"Oh, I already have what I want," Landis replied with smug arrogance. "The real question is…what are you going to do to get her back?"

* * *

_AN: Some of you saw it coming, but I hope you enjoyed the Landis twist - and that you enjoyed the fluff while it lasted because, well...the drama has begun! I can't wait to hear what you think!_


	6. Toys In the Basement

_AN: And the real story begins! Not to worry, the fluff may be over for the moment in terms of DE's present, but there are plenty of aspects of their relationship left to explore, so the flashbacks will continue. A couple of my favorites are in this chapter, actually, so enjoy and be sure to let me know what you think – good, bad or indifferent. _

_Edit: Sorry for spamming you with another update, but I meant to add that if any of you are confused as to who Landis is, check out chapters 8, 9, and 10 of SIW. That will fill you in on everything you need to know. _

_**Staring at her broken body, he realized one truth. Ultimately, he'd ruined her life.**_

Chapter Six – Toys In the Basement

"_What are you willing to do to get her back?" _

The question almost made Damon laugh. What was he willing to do to get Elena back? There was nothinghe _wouldn't_ do – he'd slaughter the entire population of Atlanta and burn what was left to the ground if he had to. Landis obviously didn't know who the fuck he was dealing with.

His gaze was drawn to Elena's discarded clothing spread across the floor as he realized with sick certainty that Landis hadn't just been in the apartment, he'd been in their bedroom – the place where she was supposed to be safe.

Then again…maybe he did.

Landis was a monster in every sense of the word, but he'd never been a mindless killing machine. When he'd hunted – for prey rather than for food – he had stalked his victims for weeks, sometimes months, memorizing their routines and habits until he had understood every facet of their existence. When the time had come, he'd plucked them from their lives when they'd least expected it, and always from the places they'd felt the safest.

His grip on his phone had tightened to the point of crushing the plastic, forcing him to relax as he struggled to keep his voice steady. "Let me talk to Elena."

"No can do, my long lost friend," Landis replied, his voice ringing with glee. "She's indisposed at present."

"If you hurt her," he warned, leaping to his feet. "I'll fucking-."

"What?" Landis taunted. "Kill me? I think not. I think you're going to do exactly what I tell you to do to get your doppelgangerback. Am I wrong?"

"She's not just my-," Damon stopped, swallowing the pointless protest at the implication that Elena _belonged _to him, like a object. The memory of the blond woman in white, standing in the middle of the gravel road flashed through his mind. _That's exactly what Elena is to him, _he thought. _A possession to be played with. _His stomach turned at the long list of ways Landis liked to _play. _"Fine. Just…tell me what you want. Tell me what I have to do to get her back…_in one piece._"

"How long did it take you to figure it out?" he asked. "With the clues I left you?"

_Clues? _Damon frowned before realizing he meant the bodies back in Mystic Falls. "I knew right away," he lied. "You never had any finesse, Landis."

"Liar," the vampire chortled on the other end of the line. "If you'd had any idea, you never would have sent your precious doppelganger back to Atlanta without you. I know you, Damon Salvatore. Better than you know me, obviously. Isn't it amusing that the one time you let your guard down, catastrophe strikes?"

The question gave voice to the very thought that had been running through his head. Closing his eyes, Damon shoved the guilt aside to deal with later. "Landis-."

"I'll be in touch," the vampire promised as he abruptly ended the call. The dial tone mocked him as Damon continued to hold the phone to his ear, recriminations and self-loathing pummeling him from all sides.

Landis was right – this was his fault.

* * *

Elena woke from a dreamless sleep with the knowledge that something wasn't right. Lying on her stomach, her face buried in a pillow, she kept her eyes closed and reached out with her other senses in an attempt to pinpoint the exact cause of her discontent. The sheets felt scratchy against her skin, the mattress lumpy and everything smelled faintly of bleach.

Then the pain hit.

Everywhere.

It centered on a stinging cut on her bottom lip that crept up her cheekbone to pulse behind her eyes. The ache continued from the base of her skull, traveling down her spine to radiate through her limbs all the way to the tips of her fingers and toes. She felt like she'd been hit by a bus. Moaning in distress, she tried to roll onto her side, but her body wouldn't cooperate. Blindly, she reached for Damon, sucking in a breath of surprise as her hand met with open nothingness. The sudden intake of air made her aware of a metallic taste in her mouth.

_What the hell is going on?_

Concentrating hard, she pried her eyes apart one at a time and waited for the world to come into focus. A cheap nightstand solidified first, followed by ugly tweed curtains hanging from the windows a few feet away. Light spilled through the gap in the center and around the edges, but she couldn't tell if it was natural daylight or the artificial glow of a street lamp.

_Where am I?_

_A cheap motel room, _she thought as the stupor of sleep began to give way to the frightening uncertainty of her reality. Gritting her teeth against the pain, she finally managed to roll over onto her back, trying to remember how she'd ended up there. She hadn't woken up in a place like this since…

Savannah.

* * *

_Early morning sunlight peeked through the gaps in the motel room curtains, gently coaxing Elena from sleep. For a few brief moments she drowsed on, enjoying the overwhelming sense of contentment – of_ rightness_. Like something had fallen into place, easing a long-standing tension that she'd felt, but hadn't been able to define. _

_The sensation gradually faded as she became more aware of her surroundings – or more specifically, of the arms surrounding_ her.

Oh my god_, she thought as the memories of the previous night came back to her in stunningly clear detail._ I slept with Damon.

_Securely ensconced in his embrace, with her back pressed against his chest and his face buried in the crook of her neck, she could feel his every breath. He'd draped an arm over her body, linking their hands as he held her close. Their naked limbs were in such a tangle, she wasn't sure where he ended and she began. Vividly, she recalled the places he'd touched her – kissed her – swearing she could still feel the firm caress of his lips against her skin. _

Well, that explains the lack of tension.

_Squeezing her eyes shut, she tried to figure out how she was supposed to feel. A voice inside of her head urged her to scramble out of that bed and put some distance between the two of them. Sleeping with Damon had been a mistake – a lamentable reaction to heightened circumstances and the blood exchange. She loved_ Stefan. He _was the reason they were in Savannah, in that very motel room, in the first place. If not for him, she wouldn't even_ be_ with Damon and none of this would have happened._

_Unbidden, the memories of the way Stefan had looked at her in the alley, the way he'd so callously tossed her aside like she'd meant nothing, came back to her, making her stomach roll. She knew that he hadn't been himself – that the boy she'd fallen in love with would never have hurt her – but knowing that didn't change what had happened in the alley or what had been happening since long before Stefan had turned on her. _

_It didn't change the fact that she loved Damon, too. _

_That one truth silenced all of the confusion regarding her feelings for Stefan. There would be plenty of time for guilt and worry later, but for now, for five goddamn minutes, she only wanted to think about_ one_ Salvatore. Determinedly pushing thoughts of Stefan out of her mind, she focused on Damon – on the fact that he'd been there when she'd needed him, that he was_ still _there_, still _protecting her and keeping her safe. In that moment, she just wanted to enjoy the memories of how he'd made her feel. _

_God, had he made her_ feel_. _

_Her lips twitched up into a wicked grin as she recalled the events of the previous night, her thighs clenching in remembered pleasure. _

_Let it never be said that Damon Salvatore didn't live up to his own hype. _

_Relaxing further, Elena let herself drift languidly in and out of slumber, content in the knowledge that the strong arms protectively surrounding her would keep her safe. Her peace was interrupted far too soon, however, by the gentle sweep of Damon's thumb over the back of her hand. Opening her eyes, she glanced down, suddenly realizing that he was awake._

He's probably been awake this entire time_, she thought as her body tensed involuntarily and she realized that it was one thing to feel at ease and content in his arms when she'd been able to believe he was asleep. Facing him, looking him in the eye…_that_ was quite another._

What happens now?

_Staring straight ahead at the back wall of the motel room, Elena knew one thing with absolute certainty – she didn't want to pretend that it hadn't happened. While it could mean losing both brothers, she couldn't honor her feelings for Stefan at Damon's expense anymore. _

_Closing her eyes, she summoned all of her courage before turning in his arms. Instantly, he released his hold on her as his body tensed – in preparation, she assumed, for her inevitable retreat. Part of her – a very big part of her – wanted to do just that, but she forced herself to stay in his loosened embrace. _

_Opening her eyes, she found herself staring at the base of his throat. Taking a deep breath, she resolutely worked her gaze higher, over his jaw to his mouth until finally, she met his gaze. His crystal blue eyes were narrowed, guarded, and while his arms were still loosely circling her body, she knew he was waiting for her to flee. _

_Elena wanted to speak and break the incredible silence, but her mind was blank. What had happened between them had changed everything, and it was suddenly too big to put into words. It took all of her strength to simply look him in the eye and hope that everything she was feeling was written as plainly on her features as she knew it was in her heart. _

_Moved by an impetus beyond her control, she reached for him and caressed his cheek, dragging her thumb along his jaw, willing him to understand what she still couldn't tell him._

_She wouldn't take it back even if she could. _

_His expression softened at her touch, but the wariness remained as he slowly relaxed and let his arms settle more comfortably around her._ Why does it have to be so complicated_? she wondered as her gaze dropped to his mouth. The sudden urge to kiss him, to sink into his arms and melt beneath his touch was nearly irresistible. She wanted to go back to the place they'd been in the night before when she hadn't been able to think or worry. _

It would be so easy.

_Leaning toward him, she parted her lips, already anticipating the way he'd taste…_

"_Damon? Elena? It's Ric." The voice and the accompanying volley of knocks on the hotel room door hit her like a bucket of ice water. Her eyes locked with Damon's and everything she'd managed to push aside – guilt, worry,_ Stefan– _came rushing back on a flood of panic. Alaric knocked on the door again. "Are you in there?"_

_Elena knew she needed to move, needed to pull away from Damon and respond to Alaric before he broke down the door. Regret or no, she didn't want anybody to know what had happened between them. Not yet. Not until she knew what it meant. _

"_Everything okay?" the teacher – god, he was her_ teacher_ – asked as he knocked again. _

_Damon finally moved, releasing her from his embrace as he rolled away from her. "Get dressed," he murmured, grabbing his pants. _

"_Damon…wait," she argued, even though she knew he was right. Holding the sheet to her chest, she sat up and touched his bare shoulder. "We need to talk about this."_

"_No, Elena," he replied, shaking off her hand as he turned around and took her face between his palms. His gaze was intense, almost hypnotizing with its sense of urgency. "We'll talk about it, just…_get dressed."

_Abruptly, he released her, retrieving a shirt from his open bag and heading toward the door. Glancing over his shoulder, he looked pointedly at her and nodded toward the bathroom. Briefly, she closed her eyes before forcing her body to_ move.

_Dragging the sheet along with her, she wrapped it around her body and scurried into the bathroom just as Damon opened the motel room door. _

"_You're early," he said accusingly as he slipped outside and shut the broken door behind him. She closed the bathroom door, sagging against it as the sound of her racing heart blocked out what little she would have heard of the muffled voices. For several moments, all she could do was stand there, panting, at how close Alaric had been to discovering her in bed with…_

With her boyfriend's brother.

"_Oh, my god," she murmured, burying her face in her hands and sinking to the floor. _What the hell am I going to do now?

* * *

Pushing herself up on her elbows, Elena looked around the seemingly empty room. The bathroom door was ajar, the interior of the small space dark. There were no suitcases tucked into the corners of the room, no personal belongings on top of the dresser. It seemed as though someone – or something – had dropped her in the uncomfortable bed and simply vanished.

Fighting panic, she threw back the covers and swung her legs out toward the floor. Ignoring the wave of vertigo and throbbing pain that accompanied the sudden movement, she frowned at her clothing, fingering the gauzy white fabric of the asymmetrical skirt. Rising to her bare feet, she stumbled toward the mirror above the dresser and stared at her appearance in horror.

A dark bruise had spread across her left cheekbone, curling around her eye and disappearing into her hair line. A cut on her swollen bottom lip, caked with blood, explaining the metallic taste she'd woken up with earlier. The dress was hers – the white fabric of the bodice and halter-style shoulder straps contrasting sharply with her summer tan – but she couldn't remember putting it on, much less why.

_What is going on? Why am I here? Where is _here_? _The frantic thoughts swirled through her brain as she backed away from the mirror and gazed fearfully around the room. She winced as she inadvertently bit her split bottom lip to stop it from quivering. She wanted to be calm and brave but the scared little girl inside of her had risen up and taken over. Waking up in unfamiliar surroundings would be disconcerting for anyone, but for someone who had been through the things she had, it was worse. She wanted to go home. She wanted Damon – wanted him to burst through the door and rescue her. Screw being independent, she'd gladly play the damsel in distress if it brought an end to the feeling of abject, helpless fear racing through her veins.

_Jesus, Elena, relax_, she thought as a thread of rational thought cut through her panic attack. Covering her face in her hands, she tried to get her breathing under control. Freaking out wouldn't solve a damn thing. If all of the life-threatening situations she'd found herself in over the years had taught her _anything _it was that hysterical meltdowns did not equal survival.

She needed a plan.

_Call Damon. _

Drawing a deep breath, she straightened her shoulders and looked around the room for a phone. All motel rooms had phones. The nightstand, however, was empty save for a lamp that looked like it had been purchased in the 70s and a battered copy of the Bible. The dresser was equally bare and all of the drawers were empty. She even ducked her head into the bathroom and checked the cupboard beneath the sink.

Nothing.

_Okay, _she thought, tasting blood as she chewed mercilessly on her lip and stood in the middle of the empty room. Either this was the only motel room in the history of motels without a phone or someone had purposely removed it.

Neither idea boded well.

_Fine then, _she thought, turning her attention to the door. _If the phone won't come to me, I'll go to the phone. _Striding toward the door, she worked the locks, trying to ignore the flutter of anxiety that coursed through her upon turning not one, but _three _deadbolts. _Where the _hell _am I? _

_What am I going to find outside?_

The door flew open before she had a chance to find out, slamming into her with such force, she stumbled backwards. Tripping over the long hem of her dress, her cry of surprise was abruptly cut off as her head connected with the dresser – _hard. _

"Clumsy girl," a voice murmured, barely cutting through the waves of nauseating pain radiating behind her eyes. She groaned and brought a hand to the side of her head, recoiling at the sticky blood already matting her hair. Strong hands gripped her arms and hauled her bodily from the floor. "Trying to run away, I see. Can't have that."

"What…where am I?" she croaked, wishing her vision would focus so she could make out the face of the person holding her captive. "Who are you?"

"You don't recognize me?" the disembodied voice asked incredulously. "Why Elena Gilbert, I think I'm insulted."

The voice was frighteningly familiar and gradually, as the pain dwindled to a dull throb, the man it belonged to came into focus. A thin, pale face, cruel blue eyes, chin length blond hair that looked like it came from another era…

_Oh, god. _

_Landis._

"No," she murmured as terror gripped her, burrowing deeper than it had in years. Vainly, she struggled in his arms, silently praying for a miracle. Raising her voice, she cried again. "No, please. Let me go."

"Let you go?" the vampire smiled, allowing his eyes to go dark as his fangs descended and the veins in his skin rose to the surface. "After all of the trouble that I went to? All of the careful planning? I think not."

His denial meant little to her as she continued to fight him, growing more frantic and irrational by the second. In the fragment of her brain that was still working, the white dress suddenly made horrifying, sickening sense. An image flashed through her mind of the woman in white, frozen in place in the middle of a lonely gravel road as a monster ripped her to shreds.

Elena opened her mouth to scream, but Landis was too fast, backhanding her hard across the right side of her face. She felt something warm and wet begin to gush from her nose as she flew towards the back of the room with the force of the blow. The scream she'd prepared became a strangled sob as she hit the wall and crashed to the floor. Instinctually, she tried to brace her fall with her hands, feeling a bone snap inside of her wrist as her palms connected with the floor.

The pain was intense, robbing her of breath, sound and sense as she collapsed in a heap on the floor. Curling into a ball, she cradled her broken wrist to her chest as blood gushed from her nose to pool on the floor. Darkness began to encroach around the edges of her vision as she fought to remain conscious. She'd already been vulnerable around this monster once, she couldn't risk it again – not even as an escape from the agony her battered body was enduring.

"Elena, look at me," he said softly, almost sweetly, as he crouched down beside her and brushed her hair over her shoulder. Wide-eyed, she whimpered and tried to retreat, but the wall at her back prevented her escape. His features twisted into a macabre grin as she stared at him helplessly. "There's a good girl. Can't have you screaming. The walls are thin and I don't want the neighbors spoiling our fun."

Realizing her mistake in meeting his gaze, she tried to look away, but it was too late. The reassuring weight of her vervaine bracelet was gone, leaving her vulnerable to the compulsion that began to play games with her mind. The fear remained, visceral and potent, but the impetus to cry out for help disappeared.

"This won't hurt," Landis continued soothingly, slipping his arms beneath her body and lifting her from the floor as if she weighed nothing. She braced herself for the expected surge of pain as he jarred her wrist and cradled her battered face against his shoulder, but it never came. In fact the pain began to recede, diminishing to a dull throb as he carried her back to the bed.

Laying her on the mattress, he propped her up with a few pillows before tipping her chin so he could get a better look at her still bleeding wounds. "That doesn't look good," he chided, brushing her hair roughly over her shoulder and making her head pound. Catching her eye, he ordered. "Stay still."

Helplessly, Elena did as she was told. Tears pooled in her eyes as the effects of the compulsion spread – her breathing had evened out and her body was no longer trembling – but the more she gave in physically, the more her mind screamed at her to fight.

_Is this what she felt like? _she wondered, letting her useless arm fall to her side as a jarring disconnect occurred between her mind and her body. Had the woman in white felt the same helplessness, the same sensation of being a prisoner trapped within herself?

Stripping off his jacket, Landis unbuttoned the cuff of his button down shirt, pushing it above his elbow. He grinned again, showing off miles of sharp fang. "Let's take care of that, shall we?"

Elena frowned, unsure of his meaning, until he brought the tender, underside of his wrist to his mouth and bit down.

_No fucking way._

"No," she croaked as her fear challenged the compulsion and she pressed her heels into the mattress in a vain attempt to get away. "No…please. I'll be fine. I don't need-."

"Shhh, Elena," Landis said, the compulsion hitting her full force and silencing her immediately. Shaking her head, she clamped her lips shut as he approached, but her efforts were futile. Grabbing a fistful of her hair, the vampire forced her mouth to his wrist. He didn't need compulsion to make her drink as he pried her lips apart by sheer strength.

"There we are," he said with a bloody grin as she choked on the metallic taste. He caught her eye once again before adding. "Drink up."

Horrified and disgusted, but unable to resist, she gripped his arm with her good hand as she did exactly as she was told.

* * *

_This is my fault, _Damon thought, still clutching his cell phone as he paced slowly and aimlessly around the bedroom. What the hell had he been thinking sending Elena back to Atlanta alone? He knew better. He'd promised himself that he'd keep her safe and for three years he'd done exactly that. He'd obsessed about it every minute of every day – only relaxing completely when they'd been together in this apartment – the one place that he'd thought they were safe.

_That was my first mistake, _he thought grimly. There was no such thing as safe and his stupid, delusional belief that he could protect Elena from _anything _was probably going to get her killed.

If she wasn't dead already.

_Stop,_ he thought, closing his eyes and coming to a full stop at the foot of the bed. Falling apart wouldn't help anybody – least of all Elena. He needed to take action, needed a plan. Immediately, he opened his eyes and made a call.

"Damon," Alaric answered after the third ring. "What's-."

"I need you to find something," Damon interrupted, focusing on the immediate task at hand as he flipped the light-switch on by the door and began scanning the room for any clues Landis may have inadvertently left behind.

"Ah, okay-."

"I need you to find a clearing in the woods with a cliff," he explained, reciting the details Bonnie had given him earlier. Part of him still thought the witch's dreams were bullshit, but the white dress was too much of a coincidence to ignore. At the very least it was a place to start.

"Can you be more specific?"

"No," he replied shortly. "You can start with the area surrounding Mystic Falls. I think it could be there."

"You think," Alaric repeated, his voice heavy with disbelief. "A clearing in the woods with a cliff that you _think _is near Mystic Falls."

"Yes."

"Got any haystacks you want me to search while I'm at it?" he quipped.

"Don't fuck with me, Ric," Damon replied through clenched teeth, gripping the phone tighter. "Now is not the time."

"Jesus, man, lighten up," the teacher replied. "What's the problem? Why do you need to-."

"Elena's gone."

Deafening silence echoed on the other end of the line. In a quiet voice, Alaric questioned. "Gone? What do you mean, she's gone?"

"Someone took her," Damon said, ignoring the sense of failure that sliced through him at the admission.

"Who?" the other man demanded, panic and anger coloring his tone as the weight of Damon's words sunk in. "Why?"

"Landis. An annoying blast from my past that I haven't seen since Stefan and Klaus set out on their excellent adventure," he muttered, sinking to the bed and holding his head in his hands.

"That was three years ago," Alaric protested.

"I know!" he roared, fighting the urge to toss the phone across the room in his frustration. "Dammit, Ric, just…I'll explain everything when I get to town…just find that fucking cliff."

"Alright," the teacher acquiesced. "I'll do what I can, but I'm going to need more details."

"Bonnie's got them. I'll see you soon," he said, ending the call before the other man could protest and waste more time. Immediately, he scrolled through his call history and called the witch.

"Did you find her?" Bonnie asked, answering on the second ring.

"Not exactly," he sighed, filling her in on the scant details that he had. Anxiety brought him back to his feet as he made his way out of the room and down the hall toward the living room. "I need you to head to Mystic Falls and meet Ric at his place. Help him find that cliff you saw in your dream."

"Okay, I-I can be there in a couple of hours," she said, readily agreeing with him instead of gloating over the fact that _now _he was taking her dream seriously. If Damon hadn't been so focused on containing his panic, he would have been grateful.

"I'm on my way to the airport, I'll be there in four," he replied.

"Damon," Bonnie started, her hesitation making him nervous. "This Landis…is he…"

"He's just a vampire, Bonnie," he assured her, trying to take a measure of comfort in the knowledge that at least this threat could be killed without spells or talismans or a full moon. "He was turned in the 20s."

"So he's not…I mean…" she stammered. "He's not going to…hurt Elena…is he?"

Inadvertently, his thoughts returned to the closet and the empty hanger that used to hold a white dress. Wanting to say no, but unable to force a lie from his lips, he admitted. "I don't know."

"Oh, god," she whimpered, her voice thick with emotion. "Damon-."

"Go back to Mystic Falls, Bonnie," he ordered gently. "Just…find the cliff and we'll figure it out from there."

Hanging up before she could question him further, Damon immediately headed for the door, his mind racing to formulate plans. The airport wasn't far and at this time of night traffic would be light. He just hoped there was still a flight leaving for Virginia or he'd be compelling his way onto a chartered one.

Double checking his pocket for his car keys, his hand was on the latch to leave the apartment when he noticed a flash of something on the floor by the kitchen table. It glinted in the moonlight, bringing him to an abrupt halt.

Elena's bracelet.

His hand slipped from the doorknob, slapping against his thigh with a dull _thwap _as he approached the innocuous bit of silver. Vervaine wouldn't have saved her from Landis – or any other vampire who wanted to do her harm – but that had never been the point. He'd given her the bracelet to protect the thing that mattered more to Elena than her physical safety.

Her free will.

_She's been compelled, _he realized as a wave of nausea swept through him with sickening certainty. His shoulders sagged as a new, more potent form of helplessness washed over him, accentuating every single way he'd failed her. In the face of the supernatural threats she'd faced, Elena's ability to make her own choices had been her only weapon. Her most prized possession.

And now it was gone, ripped away from her with a little eye contact and a push of power Damon didn't truly understand.

_Jesus, _he thought in despair as he stared down at the bracelet. _She must be terrified. _

* * *

_Damon heard Elena's laughter through the closed door of their apartment as he exited the elevator on the third floor. Smiling, he dug his keys out of his pocket, pleased that she was home and presumably enjoying herself for a change. She'd been losing her mind for the past few days over some school project. Every waking second had been devoted to finishing the damn thing and he felt like he'd barely seen her. _

"_That is_ not _true," she insisted, as he unlocked the door and quietly slipped inside. She was holding a cell phone –_ his_ phone, he quickly realized – to her ear as she sat on the couch with her back to him. He frowned, unaware that he'd forgotten it, as he absently checked his pockets._ She's never going to let me forget this one_, he thought with a rueful grin as he prepared to close the door. "No, Stefan, I refuse to believe that that actually happened."_

_His brother's name washed over him in an icy wave, freezing him in place. "I swear it is," Stefan protested over the line, sounding like he was actually in the apartment to Damon's sensitive hearing. "Why would I lie?"_

"_To mess with me," Elena replied immediately. "You just want me to start asking questions so you can laugh at how gullible I am." _

_Damon's brain processed what he'd returned home to in small pieces. Stefan and Elena. On the phone. Talking. _

_Like old friends. _

_Despite speaking to him frequently, Damon hadn't seen his brother in almost two years – not since the morning after they'd killed Klaus when Stefan had revealed his plans to leave Mystic Falls and go chasing after Katherine. _

_Elena had never asked about him – though she'd never shied away from the mention of his name in conversation, either – and Damon had been content to leave Stefan in their past. Content and_ relieved. _He'd assumed that Elena had done the same._

Apparently not_, he thought with irritation as he closed the door and flipped the lock. Turning toward the sound, Elena fell silent and the bright smile lighting up her face faltered as she took in his guarded expression. "Stefan, just a second, Damon's home," she twisted on the couch, doing her best to maintain her smile as she held the phone out to him. "Stefan called for you while you were gone." _

_Damon's gaze shifted between the thinly veiled guilt on her features to the phone she was holding out to him. "Tell him I'll call him later," he replied, tossing his keys on the kitchen counter as he stalked by on the way to the bedroom. _

"_He, um, he said he'd call you back," Elena murmured in a subdued tone. Tuning out whatever else she had to say, Damon shut the bedroom door behind him. _

So, Stefan and Elena are friends again,_ he thought, standing motionless at the foot of the bed as he tried to sort out how he felt about that. He didn't have to sort long – the answer was obvious._

_He was jealous. _

_And fucking pissed. _

_Not at Elena and Stefan – well, not _only_ at them – but at himself. He'd been with Elena for almost two years and during that time she'd never given him the slightest indication that she was pining for his brother. Every day they'd spent together had pushed the fear and doubt further and further from his mind until he'd finally come to believe that being with him wasn't some sort of temporary insanity on her part. Elena loved him with everything she had, more than he'd ever dared to hope for and certainly more than he felt he deserved. He was the one she'd chosen, the one she kissed goodnight_ and _good morning. He was the one that she turned to when the horrors of the past gave her nightmares – the one that she called in jubilation when she'd scored a perfect grade on a paper that she'd poured her heart and soul into. _

_Over the weeks and months and years, Damon had finally come to accept that _he _was Elena's life, her future – _not _his brother._

_Apparently all it took to ruin that progress and put him right back where he started was one goddamn phone call. _

"_Son of a bitch," he muttered, slowly making his way slowly to the window seat on the opposite side of the room. Sinking to the cushion, he buried his face in his hands and tried to rationalize away the nagging ache in the core of his being that he was about to be replaced. Elena loved him. He knew she did. _

But why didn't she tell me she'd been talking to Stefan?

"_Damon?" Elena knocked softly on the door, calling his name before she entered. Attempting to preserve a little dignity, he lifted his head, straightening his shoulders and looking out of the window as she fidgeted in his peripheral vision. "Is everything okay?"_

"_Just fine," he answered calmly. _

"_Damon…don't," she said, her shoulders sagging as she took a step toward him. "I know you're not fine."_

"_Then why did you ask?" he snapped, shooting her a withering glare that he immediately wished he could take back. Elena dropped her gaze as her face flushed. _

"_I was hoping you'd talk to me instead of making me pry it out of you," she replied quietly. "Maybe ask me a question or two before you jumped to conclusions."_

_Damon scoffed as decades of self-preservation reared its head and steamrolled over his common sense. "I came home and found you talking on the phone to my brother like you've been best friends for years," he said. "I didn't have to jump to anything."_

"_It's not what it looks like," she argued._

"_Really?" he retorted. "How long have you been talking to him behind my back?"_

"_I haven't-," she started to protest before changing her mind midsentence. Sighing, she sat down on the edge of the bed and faced him. Placing her hands on her knees, she looked him in the eye and took a deep breath before continuing. "Okay. Truth. Stefan called me on my birthday last year. I was in class, so he left a message and eventually I called him back. We've talked a handful of times since then." _

Eight months_. Damon's heart sank as he raised a brow, unable to keep the acid out of his voice. "Were you ever going to tell me?"_

"_Yes," she replied without hesitation. "I tried to more than once, but I always chickened out." _

Because you couldn't bring yourself to tell me it was over, _he thought bitterly as one-hundred and seventy years of being second best continued to take its toll. Reveling in his own masochism, he asked._ _"Why?"_

"_Because I wasn't sure if I was ready to have this conversation," she admitted cryptically, inadvertently twisting the knife of disappointment and betrayal deeper into his heart. "And because you'd finally stopped looking at me like…"_

"_Like what?" _

"_Like every time we said goodbye it was for the last time," she explained as her eyes took on the glassy sheen of tears. She kept her voice steady, however, as she continued. "I felt like we were past that and I didn't want to risk going back." _

God dammit, _he thought, clenching his jaw and steeling himself as the sudden throbbing ache of love for her warred with his irrational doubts. She knew him so fucking well, what was the point in trying to preserve even a shred of his dignity? She'd see through him. She saw through him every time. _

_He had to stop doing this to her. After two years, he had to stop making her prove that he was the one she wanted. Ready with an apology, he said. "Elena, I'm-."_

"_I needed to talk to him, Damon."_

_The icy fingers of doubt closed around his heart once again. "Why?"_

_She hesitated for a moment before leaving the bed to join him on the window seat – close to him, but not quite touching. "Stefan and I…we ended badly," she said with a pained smile, gazing in front of her into the middle distance as she went back to that summer two years ago. "The last time we talked was on the lawn in front of your house and it didn't go well. There was so much going on and…I was hurt and angry. I didn't care if we parted on good terms. I was too focused on killing Klaus and you…figuring out what this thing was between us. I was only thinking about myself. I didn't care what it did to you and Stefan." _

"_Me and Stefan?" he repeated, frowning in confusion as he tried to figure out which side of his inner struggle this new revelation supported. "What are you talking about?" _

_She offered him a sad smile. "Do you think I don't notice the way you leave the room when he calls? Or the way the conversation screeches to a halt when I come home? Because I do," she said, looking down as she reached for his hand and curled her fingers around his. The small amount of contact was embarrassingly effective in soothing the turmoil in his heart. "And I know you do that because of me…or for me, maybe, I don't know…I just know I don't want to be the reason you can't be brothers." _

_Damon stared at her in surprise. "So you've been secretly talking to Stefan…for me?" _

"_Well, when you put it like that, it sounds stupid instead of noble," she admitted, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment as she lifted her gaze to meet his. "I did it for me, too. I needed to resolve things with Stefan or it would have become this thing…this wedge between all of us," she explained, scooting closer and taking his face between her hands. Studying him for a moment, she stroked her thumbs over his cheeks. "There's nothing …romantic left between Stefan and I. There hasn't been for a long time. The only thing we have in common anymore is you. This…you and me…it's forever, Damon. You believe that, right?"_

_More than anything, he wanted to say yes. He wanted to assure her that her explanation had taken away all of his doubts and soothed his battered sense of self-worth, but it wasn't that simple. One hundred and seventy years of being second best wasn't easy to overcome – especially when the hurdle was Stefan. _

"_Damon?" she prompted, a tiny line of worry appearing between her brows. Silently, he wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her onto his lap. _

"_I…believe it," he promised, holding her gaze and wishing he felt as confident as he sounded. He had to believe it, had to believe in her. _

"_Good," Elena replied, her features relaxing as she settled onto his lap. She continued to caress his cheek as she circled an arm around his shoulders. "Because I really love you." _

_He closed his eyes as she kissed him, welcoming the connection and holding onto it like a lifeline. "Keep telling me that," he said, between kisses. _

"_Every day," she promised. _

"_And you don't have to hide your conversations with Stefan," he added as he pulled away enough to look her in the eye and said the words he hoped to someday truly mean. He knew she was right – she was determined to turn, to really be with him forever, and that was far too long to harbor the fear that he was going to lose her to his brother. If he didn't deal with it, he'd become his own worst enemy and push her away. _

_Elena smiled. "Neither do you."_

* * *

Damon sank to his knees, reaching for the bracelet – the only bit of protection she'd had against others of his kind – as the tenuous barrier he'd erected against the helplessness and guilt crumbled. The vervaine infused metal made his skin sizzle, but he barely felt the pain.

_What if I can't save her?_

The reality of the situation hit him as he stared at the bracelet and watched his fingers blister. Elena could die, alone and afraid, because he'd failed her. Despite his vigilance regarding her phone, the insistence of the vervaine bracelet and the way he'd memorized her schedule, he'd grown complacent after three years of existing as a normal couple. He'd let her return to Atlanta alone and for what? To play detective in Mystic Falls when the real threat had followed her home.

_This is my fault, _he thought again, closing his eyes as he curled his fingers into a fist around the bracelet and the guilt rendered him utterly useless. Images of Elena in the white dress and completely at Landis's mercy flashed through his mind. The younger vampire was nothing special except in terms of his cruelty and imagination. Damon had never seen someone who took such joy in killing the way Landis did. He put Stefan's ripper past to shame.

And he had Elena.

"Fuck," he hissed, both at himself and the pain that had finally pushed its way past the numbness. Shoving the bracelet in his pocket, he watched his hand heal and knew that he couldn't do it alone. Not this time. If he let his pride get in the way, he could fail Elena twice.

His phone was in his hand before he realized he was reaching for it. Tearing his gaze away from his mostly healed wounds, he scrolled through his contacts and tapped the touch screen. A voice answered after the second ring.

"Hello?"

Damon swallowed, fighting to keep his voice steady. "I need your help."


	7. Sympathy for the Devil

_AN: The last chapter got the best response, thank you so much! The flashbacks in particular were a hit, which was awesome because they were a couple of my favorites. I'm going to do my best to continue that balance of light and dark between the present day story and the flashbacks, so I hope you stick with me. Enjoy!_

_**He watched as Damon disappeared into the trees, chasing after the only thing he had left. **_

_**Revenge.**_

Chapter Seven - Sympathy for the Devil

_After a night of tossing and turning, Elena slipped quietly out of Damon's embrace just as the sun was beginning to rise. Opening one eye, he made no move to follow as she hurried from their bedroom and disappeared down the hallway. He understood that sometimes she just needed space – a break from the magnifying glass he unintentionally put her under with his heightened senses and over-protective impulses. _

_He also knew that her need for space wasn't the reason she'd risen from bed before six a.m. on a Saturday. The real reason was much simpler._

_Jeremy was leaving Mystic Falls._

_Rolling onto his back, he listened as she moved quietly about the kitchen – opening cupboards, running water and turning on the coffee maker. Unlike her friends, Elena's brother had decided to leave the familiarity of the Southeast – for Denver of all places. Apparently, they had family out there, although Damon suspected the real reason for Jeremy's cross-country trek was a lot simpler. After everything that the kid had been through – death, vampires, falling in love with and then breaking up with a witch, just to hit the highlights – he was looking for a fresh start. _

_Damon understood. He'd orchestrated a dozen or so of his own over the decades. _

_The sounds from the kitchen ceased as the scent of freshly brewed coffee filled the apartment. Throwing back the covers, he got out of bed and made his way to the bathroom. He took his time showering and getting dressed before making his way quietly down the hallway to the kitchen. Rolling up the sleeves of his black button down shirt, he glanced towards the living room where Elena was sitting on the couch, wrapped in a blanket with a laptop propped on her knees. _

"_You owe me big time, Sis," Jeremy's voice teased from the computer speakers as Damon poured himself a cup of coffee. The video was one Alaric had made of Jeremy's graduation ceremony and sent to Elena because she hadn't been able to attend. She'd watched it so many times, Damon nearly had it memorized. Shaking his head, he cringed inwardly at what came next. "I can't believe you missed my graduation."_

Why is she watching this today?_ he wondered as her shoulders trembled and she pressed her fingers to her lips just shy of silencing a small sob._ She's already fucking miserable.

_Completely engrossed, she didn't even look up as he approached and took a seat beside her. Sipping his coffee, he glanced at the screen where Caroline and Tyler had joined Jeremy to inform Elena in a barely intelligible, but good-natured babble, of how much she was missing. Her finals had been scheduled on the same day as Jeremy's graduation, and he'd understood, reassuring her repeatedly that it was really okay and not to stress. He'd promised her that he'd have Alaric record the entire thing. _

_The teacher had made good and the result was the video that she was watching and crying over now. It killed her to watch it every time, but for some reason she couldn't stop doing exactly that. _

"_That's enough," he said quietly, reaching for the laptop and snapping the lid closed. _

"_Damon!" she protested, clinging to the computer in vain as he easily pulled it from her grasp and set it on the coffee table._

"_Elena," he sighed, taking in her tear-filled gaze as she looked at him accusingly. "You've seen it a thousand times."_

"_So?" she challenged stubbornly._

"_So, today is not the day to find new ways to make yourself_ more_ upset," he insisted as she crossed her arms and continued to glare at him. He met it, wishing he knew the right words to make everything okay for her. _

_Her bottom lip began to tremble and she quickly bit down on it as she looked away. Swallowing, she blinked furiously to keep the tears at bay. "I should have gone."_

"_You tried," he reminded her, turning toward her on the cushions and resting an arm across the back of the couch. "You couldn't reschedule your finals."_

_Elena scoffed. "I could have tried harder," she said, pulling the blanket tighter around her shoulders. Shooting a glance his way, she added. "I could have had you compel my professors."_

"_You could have," he agreed, catching a lock of her hair between his fingers. He'd offered, but she'd insisted on trying to reschedule the old-fashioned way – by actually_ asking_ if she could take the tests on another date – as part of that_ normal _college experience. When her professors had refused and Jeremy had assured her that it was okay, she'd given up and aside from making sure she knew the offer stood, Damon had left it alone. Rubbing his thumb against the silky strands, he shrugged. "It wouldn't have changed anything."_

"_Why? Are you out of practice?" she asked, a tremulous smile curving her lips. "Think it wouldn't have stuck?"_

_He smirked faintly, studying her hair as he twisted it around his fingers for a moment before lifting his gaze to meet hers. "Jeremy would still be leaving today." _

_The smile slowly faded as her face crumpled and the tears clinging to her lashes spilled down her cheeks. Briefly, she fought to regain her composure before giving in and crawling into his arms. Pulling her onto his lap – blanket and all – he held her as she hid her face in the crook of his neck._

"_I don't want him to go to Denver," she said in a small voice as her hot tears hit his skin. _

"_I know," he replied, smoothing her hair as his heart broke for her in ways that he never would have believed possible before meeting her three years ago. _

"_He's going to be all alone," she continued, sniffling as she wiped at her wet cheeks. Already the burst of emotion had shifted from despair to concern. "I don't want him to be alone. What if-what if something happens? Who will protect him?"_

"_It's been two years, Elena," he said, using a phrase that she usually used on him. "And Jeremy's not a complete idiot. He held his own with the hybrids."_

"_He_ died_," she cried, lifting her head to stare at him in horror._

Shit. Bad example._ "Not…right away," he said, cupping her cheek and wiping away the tears with his thumb. "Caroline said he did pretty well and he has his ring. Anyway this isn't your call, Elena. It's his and you've got to trust him. Do you really want him hiding out in Mystic Falls forever? You didn't."_

_She looked away, a baleful expression on her perfect features. "I just want him to be safe."_

"_I know," he replied, tilting his head to catch her eye. Once he had her attention, he raised a brow and continued. "And Jeremy knows. If nothing else, he'll try to be, for you." _

_Bowing her head, she pushed her hair behind her ear. "Can't I just…wrap him up in plastic and put him in a bubble?" _

_Damon scoffed. "Yeah, sure," he nodded, smoothing her unruly hair. "Right after you let me do that to you, Trouble." _

"_Damon," she chided, fighting a smile as her gaze danced between his face and her hands. _

"_What?" he replied, taking her with him as he leaned back against the couch cushions. "Do you know how weird this conversation is? Me trying to convince you that Jeremy's going to be safe? It's freaking ridiculous."_

_She chuckled softly, resting her head on his shoulder and gradually relaxing against him. He pressed his lips to her forehead, before murmuring. "He'll be okay, Elena."_

"_Do you promise?" she asked, curling her fingers into his shirt. _

Fuck_. He closed his eyes, setting his mouth in a grim line as he tightened his hold on her._ That_, he couldn't do._

* * *

Damon stared out of the library window as he nursed his fifth bourbon of the day – morning, really, given that it was only eleven o'clock – as a light rain fell from the featureless grey sky. The empty driveway mocked him, reminding him with each passing second that Jeremy was not there yet which meant that Bonnie was not conducting the location spell that would lead them to Elena.

Gulping half of his drink, he swallowed, clenching his jaw so tightly his head hurt. _We're wasting time. _Elena had been gone for over thirty six hours – he hadn't seen her in five days – and his negligible patience had run out hours ago. He needed to _do _something, not just hang around staring out of a window, waiting for a car to miraculously appear.

"How much has he had to drink?" Bonnie whispered softly in a pointless attempt at subtlety considering he was standing in the same damn room.

"I don't know," Alaric muttered after a brief moment of silence. "A bottle and a half, maybe."

"It's not even noon!" she exclaimed, making Damon roll his eyes as he braced himself for her judgmental tirade. "He's going to like, pass out before Jeremy even gets here."

"Obviously, you've never seen him drink."

"Ric!"

"I'm fine, Bonnie," Damon interrupted, glancing at her over his shoulder with a tight-lipped smirk. "But thanks for your concern."

Apparently mollified, she offered him a sheepish smile in return before lowering her gaze back to the pile of maps spread across the table. Turning back to the window, Damon took another sip of bourbon, relishing the way it burned down his throat and kept the icy tendrils of outright panic at bay.

Behind him, Bonnie whispered something to Alaric that Damon didn't bother to discern, making the teacher sigh with impatience. "Bonnie…," he paused and Damon swore he could feel the heavy weight of their concerned expressions directly between his shoulder blades. "Let it go," Alaric continued, making no effort to prevent Damon from hearing which made the vampire wonder if this was a warning to both himself and the witch. "It dulls the edges enough to get by, that's all. Trust me."

_The hell it does, _Damon thought, biting back an angry retort as he braced his arm on the window sash and covered his mouth with a closed fist. The edges were there, sharp and painful, slicing into him with every breath, every movement. They'd continue to do so until he got Elena back or died trying.

"Have you two found anything?" he demanded, draining the last of the bourbon from his glass and tearing his gaze away from the window. If he spent another minute staring at the empty driveway, he'd lose what was left of his mind.

"We've found a lot," Alaric said, gesturing over his shoulder toward the huge map of Mystic Falls and the surrounding countryside. Push pins were scattered over the surface, each indicating a location for a cliff and a clearing that might match the one Bonnie had seen so many times in her dreams.

_Might being the operative fucking word. _

"Think you could have found a few more?" Damon muttered with disgust, eyeing the dozen or so pins.

"Those are just the ones we can reference," Alaric pointed out. "Who knows how many rock formations there are out there that nobody has thought to put on a map."

"Fuck," he uttered, stalking away from the map to the bar and pouring another triple. _It doesn't matter, _he tried to convince himself. They had a solid plan. The second Jeremy arrived, Bonnie would perform her little spell and they'd track down Elena. It would be fine. _She _would be fine.

So, why didn't he feel better?

_Because nothing ever works out like it's supposed to. _Elena was supposed to be back in Atlanta and he was supposed to be with her – protecting her while he kept her from drowning under the mountain of responsibility she piled on her own shoulders. She was not supposed to be in the clutches of a deranged vampire and he was not supposed to be back in Mystic-fucking-Falls with no one but his alcoholic best friend and a twenty-year-old witch at his side.

"You could help, you know," Bonnie pointed out, ignoring his scathing glare as she poured over some brochures on Virginia state parks. "It will help keep your mind off of…" she paused. "Other things."

"Yeah, and how's that working for _you_?" he snapped, pacing back to the window before she could answer. "Where the fuck is Jer-."

A Jeep pulled into the driveway, lurching to a stop dangerously close to the rear end of his Camaro. Peering through the steady drizzle, Damon groaned as Tyler and Caroline climbed out of the vehicle. "You've got to be fucking kidding me," he uttered in a low oath before turning around and glaring accusingly at Bonnie. "You called Caroline and her wolfy boy-toy?"

"Of course, I did," she snapped, returning his seething gaze with a heated one of her own. "Elena's in trouble, you didn't think I was going to keep her friends in the dark about it, did you?"

"Yeah, actually, I did," he countered, crossing to the table and slamming his glass on the wooden surface. "This isn't their problem."

"My best friend has been kidnapped by a psycho vampire serial killer," Caroline announced, appearing in the doorway with Tyler in tow. Arching a brow at Damon, she added. "That is _so _my problem."

Damon stared at the blond vampire, debating the merits of locking her in the cell in the basement until he got Elena back in one piece. If Tyler hadn't been with her – with his werewolf teeth that could kill vampires with the slightest bite – he might have actually gone through with it.

"Make yourselves useful," he snarled, turning his back on them as he returned to the window. He'd be no good to Elena if he were dying from yet another werewolf bite that couldn't be cured. Taking a large swallow of his bourbon, he pushed aside his rage and frustration – saving it for later when he had Landis in his grasp – and resumed his vigil.

* * *

Elena returned to consciousness through a thick fog, unaware of how much time had passed. Forcing her heavy lids open, the motel room gradually came into focus. Propped awkwardly against the pillows like a rag doll, her limbs felt sluggish and detached, but whole. The searing pain of her broken wrist had dissipated.

_Because I drank Landis's blood_, she remembered, gagging at the thought of the compulsion. Her stomach turned and bile burned at the back of her throat as she remembered how she'd clung to the vampire's wrist and sucked down a bellyful of his blood without the slightest protest.

Swallowing her nausea, she brought a hand to her head and recoiled at the matted clumps of hair, recalling her earlier head wound. Memories and sensation slammed into her as she relived the excruciating seconds of her brief fight with Landis. A cry of terror lodged itself in her throat as her eyes burned with tears she couldn't shed. Landis's compulsion was still working, keeping her outwardly silent even as she screamed on the inside.

Her vampire captor had disappeared again, but she knew he wouldn't be far. Gazing longingly towards the bathroom, she clumsily pushed herself away from the pillows and scooted to the edge of the mattress. If she could just get in there and lock the door, maybe she could steal a few minutes of peace – at least long enough to splash some cold water on her face and wash away the blood and disorientation.

Planting her feet on the ratty carpet, she pushed off of the bed and immediately collapsed to the floor like a discarded marionette. Compulsion stifled the impulse to cry out, making her head throb with pent up emotions. Her breath came in short gasps as she leaned against the side of the bed.

_Why is he doing this?_ she wondered as silent sobs wracked her body. She knew that the question was pointless, that there was only one answer that made sense. Landis was insane, a vampire with heightened sociopathic tendencies. He didn't _need _a reason to torture her. Maybe he'd taken her as payback for something Damon had done eighty years ago or maybe it had just been Wednesday and he'd felt like it. Knowing why didn't matter. It didn't change what was happening or the fact that he'd thrown so much compulsion at her she could barely breathe.

Squeezing her eyes shut, she turned her face into the mattress. Her need for Damon rivaled only her desire to be somewhere else, facing _anything _else. She would have gladly taken on Klaus in the tomb again if it meant she didn't have to stay in this hotel room. A devastating sense of helplessness crashed over her, suffocating her as she cowered on the floor.

_Stop it, Elena. _

Sucking in a sharp breath, she forced her eyelids open. She knew the voice – Damon's voice – was merely a product of her fear, but in the unnatural silence of the room, it was enough. Curling her fingers into fists, she lifted her chin and looked toward the bathroom. The door was ajar, the darkness within beckoning her like a safe harbor. Her arms shook as she put one fist on the floor, then another. Her legs barely obeyed her commands as she half-crawled, half-dragged herself across the carpet.

Inches from her goal, a pair of inhumanly strong arms lifted her bodily from the floor and flung her back onto the bed.

"No," she croaked, beating her fists uselessly against the mattress. Landis loomed over her, a disappointed sneer curving his lips.

"I thought I told you to be still," he said in disgust, his eyes widening as the compulsion hit her with renewed strength. Immediately, her body betrayed her as her arms relaxed by her sides. Shaking his head, he closed and secured the hotel room door. "I can't leave you alone for a second."

Stripping off his jacket, he tossed it onto the faded armchair near the window and made his way back to the bed. Silently, he took stock of her appearance, reaching out to rearrange the hem of her dress and smooth it out over her useless legs. Inwardly cringing as his fingers brushed her skin, she had no choice but to endure his unwelcome touch.

When her clothing was straightened to his satisfaction, he disappeared into the bathroom. Elena's anxiety spiked as she listened to the sound of running water. What kind of torture was he planning now?

Emerging with a washcloth, he sat beside her on the bed and, to her surprise, began wiping the dried blood from her face. His touch was anything but gentle as he scrubbed at her cheeks with the rough cloth, but the cool water felt wonderful against her flushed skin.

"There now," he replied, eyeing his work with satisfaction. "Much better. I can see why Damon keeps you. You're very beautiful."

Elena swallowed, looking longingly toward the door as he rose from the bed to return the washcloth to the bathroom. Hearing Damon's name made her yearn for him even more. "Why are you doing this?" she asked, fighting to stay calm so that the compulsion would allow her to speak as Landis reemerged. "What do you want?"

The monster sat beside her again, closer this time, making her pulse jump in fear as he brushed her hair away from her face and gripped her chin. "Damon made me destroy my favorite pet," he explained, examining her through narrowed eyes. "I thought it was time to return the favor."

"I'm not his-I'm not his pet," she stammered weakly, the mere act of defying him with words taxing her.

"Well, of course you are," Landis replied with a smirk. "You're human. What other reason would he have for keeping you?"

_Damon loves me, _she wanted to scream, but the idea of actually sharing that intimacy with him disgusted her. "I don't believe you."

"Pardon me?"

"If that woman was so important to you then why did it take three years for you to come after us?" she asked, hoping to keep him talking for as long as possible. If he was truly motivated by revenge for the woman in white, then his plans for her had to be unimaginable. "There must be another reason."

"Smart and beautiful," he observed. "Not my combination of choice, but to each his own."

"Now you're just avoiding the question," she chided, earning her a hard look that made her stomach flip with fear.

"Careful," he warned. "I can make this much more uncomfortable for you."

_I doubt that. _Lowering her gaze, she apologized. "I'm sorry. I just…if I'm going to die, I want to know why," she explained, tears burning her eyes once again as the constant longing for Damon spiked almost unbearably. "I think I deserve to know."

"You're human," he said again, the dismissal evident in his tone. "You're livestock. The only reason you haven't been wiped out as a species is because my kind needs you to survive. And you're fun to toy with."

"Damon's older than you," she pointed out, the insult giving her strength. "He'll kill you if you hurt me. I may be a toy, but I _am _his favorite. Tell me what this is really about."

Every vampire who had ever threatened her had responded to her bravery – her defiance in the face of their obvious superiority. Landis was no exception. Interest piqued, he moved closer, trapping her body with a fist on either side of her hips as he leaned over her.

"Threatening me when I have you completely at my mercy?" he shook his head with a cluck of his tongue. "Perhaps I was wrong about your intelligence. Maybe the truth is just what you need."

* * *

_Landis loved blood. _

_He loved the taste, the smell, the warm, thick feel of it hitting the back of his throat and spreading throughout his being as he bit into his helpless victims. Blood was life in every way and he lived for it. _

_He did not, however, enjoy his own blood. _

_Strung up by his ankles and dangling from the ceiling of an abandoned barn, Landis blinked as his own blood ran down from his naked chest. Dripping into his mouth, it burned his eyes and streaked through his hair before pooling on the dirty, straw covered floor. His strength had disappeared hours ago, leaving his arms to drag against the cracked cement, offering scant relief from the agony of blood loss and having his body unnaturally suspended for more than two days. _

"_Are you still with me, Landis?" _

_He groaned in response, staring at the impeccably tailored pants of his captor. Amazingly, there wasn't a spec of blood on the cuffs._

"_Excellent," Klaus replied, moving out of his immediate line of sight to the table against the wall where he'd laid out his instruments of torture. Closing his eyes, Landis braced himself for the burning pain. It came with a vengeance, the knife slicing deep into his side as vervaine burned him from the inside out. _

"_Please," he rasped, unable to maintain his silence in the face of such agony. _

"_Please what?" Klaus asked. "Stop? How do I know you have learned your lesson?" _

"_I…have," he sighed, coughing up blood and adding to the lake currently soaking into the cement beneath the straw. _

"_You have?" Klaus repeated in a mocking, cruel tone. "What is the lesson then?"_

_Blood was pouring down his body into his mouth, making it difficult to speak. "Don't…don't sp…"_

"_Do not speak," the Original finished. "That is correct. Do. Not. Speak. Your conversation with Damon Salvatore has proven most inconvenient for me."_

Damon Salvatore.

_The fire of raw anger burned through some of the pain, giving Landis a momentary reprieve. Damon and his toy doppelganger were to blame for his current predicament. If they hadn't crossed his path and manipulated him into revealing Klaus's plans he wouldn't be hanging by his ankles from a wooden crossbeam. _

_A shrill ring echoed through the barn, making Landis cringe at the jarring sound. Klaus's shoes disturbed the flaky straw as he made his way back to the table and picked up his cell phone. _

"_Stefan Salvatore," the Original crooned. "I knew I hadn't heard the last of you." _

_Blood loss had rendered Landis's limbs useless, but it hadn't damaged his hearing. "You need to come to Mystic Falls," Stefan said in clipped tones. _

"_And why would I go back to that ridiculous little town?" _

"_Because you want Katherine," the other man replied with confidence. "And I've got her." _

_The atmosphere in the barn shifted as the air froze in the mounting tension. Landis could hear the predatory grin in Klaus's voice when he finally spoke. "Do you now? That_ is _good news." _

"_When will you be here?" _

"_Oh, for the lovely Katerina I shall fly like the wind and be there tomorrow evening," Klaus assured him. "And Stefan…see that she does not…get away." _

_Ending the call, he tucked the device into his back pocket and plucked a white cloth from the table. "Well, Landis, it appears to be your lucky day," he said, bending down and turning his head as he wiped the blood from his hands. "Thanks to Stefan, you are getting a reprieve." _

"_Reprieve?" he croaked, spitting blood on the floor. "You're letting me go?"_

_Klaus smiled. "Afraid not."_

"_Then what-."_

"_I meant a reprieve from the pain," he stated, straightening abruptly and tossing the cloth back on the table. "Katerina takes precedence over your pitiful transgression, but I shall return to finish the lesson."_

"_Please," Landis cried as fear overrode his pain and fatigue. Klaus was leaving him alone? Trussed up like a turkey swinging from a hook? "Don't leave me here, I've learned my lesson, I won't talk. To anyone. Ever again." _

"_I know," Klaus replied with a wave as he slipped outside into the harsh sunlight. "See you soon!" _

* * *

"But of course, I didn't see him soon," Landis revealed. He'd shifted during the story to lie beside her on the bed. He'd tucked one arm behind his head before taking her hand and twining their fingers together as if they were sharing an intimate moment. "I didn't see him again at all. For three years I hung from that hook – wasting away to nothing. All because of Damon and his questions."

Elena's stomach turned with revulsion – both for Landis's fate and the way he was touching her – as she stared at their joined hands, wishing with everything she had that she could pull away. Closing her eyes, she asked. "How did you get away?"

"A drug addled transient was kind enough to unhook my desiccated corpse from the hook," he explained. "He then proceeded to go through my pockets and I proceeded to relieve him of his pathetic existence."

_Three years. _She tried to imagine what it would be like to be trapped like he'd been, feeling himself creep closer and closer to death but knowing that no matter how badly he wished for it, death would always be out of reach. She felt a twinge of sympathy until images of the woman in white flashed before her mind. Damon had called Landis a sociopath – pure, unadulterated evil even before he'd been turned.

The sympathy vanished.

"I'm sorry," she said, trying to sound sincere despite the words being an utter lie. "I'm sorry that that happened to you, but it's not…it's not my fault. Not Damon's fault. He didn't tell Klaus-."

She gasped in surprise and pain as Landis used the sharp edge of his fingernail to slice her palm open. Blood dripped onto the fabric of her dress near her hip, blossoming like a grotesque red flower against the stark white. Untangling their fingers, he raised her hand, watching the blood run down her fingers.

"I spent a long time watching Damon, trying to figure out how to make him _feel _what I felt for those three years, and do you know what I discovered?"

"Wh-what?" she stammered as her hand started shaking and the blood continued to flow.

"It's you," he replied, turning on his side and propping himself up on an elbow. Terrifying blue eyes – the wrong blue eyes – grabbed hers and wouldn't let go. His gaze never wavered as he brought her palm to his lips and sucked hard on the open wound. The pain intensified exponentially, forcing Elena to bite her lip as an outlet for the cry of agony she couldn't release.

Landis's mouth was red with her blood and his eyes were ringed by black veins when he finally pulled away. He grinned. "You're the key to my revenge."

* * *

Damon stood at the window like a statue, watching the empty driveway as the drizzle became a steady downpour that blurred the edges of everything in the outside world. Twelve o'clock had come and gone and still Jeremy had not appeared. The charge on his cell phone was dwindling at twice the normal speed as he obsessively checked for messages his super-sensitive hearing had somehow missed.

Nothing.

_Fuck. _Closing his eyes, he rested his head on his arm where it laid across the window sash. He was tired – exhausted by fear, worry and a crushing feeling of helplessness. This was the part he hated – the waiting and wondering and doing _nothing _while Elena's life hung precariously in the balance. Despite his constant vigilance and obsession with keeping her safe, he'd forgotten what this felt like.

He just wanted her back.

Lifting his head on a sigh, he was startled to find a grey rental car parked behind Tyler's jeep. For one instant, as Jeremy leapt from the vehicle and ran through the rain toward the front door, Damon felt a spark of hope.

"He's here," he announced, moving quickly across the library.

"Everything's set up in the living room," Bonnie called after him as he blurred down the hallway to the front door, opening it before Jeremy had a chance to knock.

"Hey, Damon," he said in surprise. "I was just about to-."

"What the hell took so long?" Damon demanded, grabbing his arm and yanking him inside.

"The flight was delayed," Jeremy muttered, running a hand through his damp hair and dripping water all over the floor as Damon dragged him roughly into the living room. "In case you haven't noticed, it's fucking raining out. Have you heard anything?"

"No," Damon replied tersely. "Landis is taking his sweet time."

"In a few minutes it won't matter," Bonnie announced with confidence as Jeremy took a seat on the couch across from her. All business, she reached for her former boyfriend's hand without the slightest hesitation. Choosing a slender blade from the collection of witchcraft paraphernalia, she pressed it to Jeremy's palm. He winced as a line of bright red blood bloomed across his skin. Offering him a tight smile, she said. "Don't worry. I don't need much."

"I remember," Jeremy replied as he curled his fingers into a fist, squeezing until a few drops splattered onto the map of the southeast that was spread out on the table.

Bonnie set to work with a single-minded focus that eased a great deal of Damon's anxiety. Finding Elena was the difficult part. After that it was just a matter of time before he tracked Landis down and ripped him apart. _He's just a vampire, _Damon reminded himself and at roughly eighty years old, hardly a threat. Crossing his arms tightly, he leaned against the molding of the doorframe and watched from a distance. The witch had just started chanting when an achingly familiar voice murmured into his ear, sending a chill down his spine.

"Hello, Damon."


	8. A Girl Who Wasn't There

_AN: I've been remiss in thanking my beta the past few chapters, so once again, beta? You are awesome. :D_

_I've heard that has been cracking down and deleting fic due to explicit sex scenes. Thus far, I'm taking a wait and see/I'll worry about it when I have to approach, but if for some reason any of my stories DO disappear, I have an lj site where I post as well. I'll put the info in my profile, so check that out._

_Thanks so much for the replies, alerts and favorites. They make my day and keep me inspired. Enjoy! _

"_**Go with him." The look is his eye silencing any protest. "And make sure he doesn't do anything that he can't come back from." **_

Chapter Eight – A Girl Who Wasn't There

"_Hello, Damon." _

Damon sucked in a shallow breath as the softly spoken words washed over him. The voice – so similar to Elena's and yet shatteringly different – sharpened the despair and longing radiating throughout his entire being into a lethal point.

_Fuck. _

"Katherine," he muttered, struggling to maintain his emotional control as he turned to face her. He'd known that enlisting Stefan's help meant involving _her, _but now, as Elena's twin gazed at him with those familiar wide brown eyes framed by a thick fringe of lashes, he realized that he was completely unprepared. Katherine's physical resemblance to her – despite the curled hair, figure hugging clothes and predatory grin – hit him in the gut like a physical blow, reminding him with startling clarity that the woman he loved was gone. He knew he was staring down a copy, an _imitation_, but still…

It fucking _hurt._

"Damon," Stefan said, clearing his throat and drawing Damon's gaze away from Katherine. The tension in the room had skyrocketed upon the entrance of the pair, and Damon didn't have to look over his shoulder to know that Caroline and Tyler were watching him with bated breath – he could hear the wolf's thundering heartbeat from across the room. Stepping closer, Stefan placed a protective hand on Katherine's lower back as he eyed the two of them warily. The casually intimate gesture stoked the fires of Damon's anger.

_As if that bitch needed any protection. _

"Where the fuck have you been?" he demanded, crossing his arms tightly over his chest as he glared at his brother.

Stefan didn't flinch under the verbal assault. "We were on the other side of the country. Planes only fly so fast."

"It's been eighteen hours," he hissed, refusing to be mollified as his grip on the panic and fear began to loosen now that his brother had arrived. "How fucking hard is it to hop a red-eye?"

Stefan took a breath. "Damon-."

"Back off, Damon," Katherine interrupted, stepping toward him, her eyes blazing with irritation. "_You _invited us on this little rescue mission and we got here as fast as we could. It's not Stefan's fault you lost your damn girlfriend."

At her words, Damon's tenuous grip on his tightly wound control snapped. One moment he was glaring at his brother and the next he had Katherine pinned by the throat to the wall on the opposite side of the room, leaving a trail of upended furniture and shattered glass in his wake.

"Shut. The fuck. Up," he ordered through gritted teeth, squeezing her neck tighter as she began to laugh.

"Still no sense of humor," she teased, arching a brow at him before easily batting his hand away. Consumed by hatred, Damon lunged at her again, eager to rip her to shreds for simply being there and looking like Elena when _she wasn't fucking Elena. _Stefan's hands caught him by the shoulders, holding him back as she smoothly out maneuvered him before adding. "Really, Damon, after all the perils your little Pauline has found herself in, I'm surprised you're still so touchy about it."

"Katherine," Stefan warned as Damon allowed himself to be hauled away. Rolling her eyes, the older vampire held up her hands in surrender as she turned around and sauntered away. Blinded by the raw fury coursing through him, he barely registered the looks of shock on the faces of the other occupants of the room as his brother dragged him toward the foyer. Pausing at the entrance, Stefan added. "Find us when you've got Elena's location."

Wrestling with impotent, paralyzing rage, the only coherent thought that Damon had as Stefan half shoved and half pulled him down the hallway to the library, was that a steady diet of human blood had drastically increased his younger brother's strength. The punishing grip on his shoulders was actually starting to hurt.

Apparently drawn by the noise from the front of the house, Alaric was already on his feet as Stefan threw open the door to the library and tossed Damon into the room. "Have a drink," the younger Salvatore ordered. "Before you start a fight you can't finish."

"Oh, I've already had several," Damon sneered, moving toward the bar anyway and grabbing a decanter at random. Skipping the glass entirely, he guzzled down what amounted to a fifth of whiskey before tossing it into the empty fireplace. The sound of shattering crystal cut through some of the haze. "But there you go. You fucking happy now, Stefan?"

His brother gazed at him coolly. "Thrilled."

Damon scowled, turning his back on Stefan's judgment and Alaric's concern as he stalked to the fireplace and braced his hands on the mantle. _So, I'm out of control. Who the fuck cares?_ Elena was gone and he was stuck with Katherine and his somehow _still _holier-than-thou baby brother. _Brilliant plan, Salvatore. _He wasn't sure where to begin reeling himself in – even if he had wanted to. Closing his eyes, Damon tried to shut out everything and everyone, but Alaric and Stefan's voices insisted on ruining his concentration.

"I didn't know you were coming," the hunter said.

"Damon didn't tell you?" Stefan asked, only slightly surprised. Curling his fingers into fists, Damon nearly punched a hole in the plaster wall at the sound of his smug, patronizing tone. "He called and asked me to bring Jeremy back to Mystic Falls."

"Yeah, and I specifically remember not inviting Katherine," Damon snapped as he glared over his shoulder.

"Katherine's here?" Alaric asked, catching his friend's eye as a look of understanding dawned on his features. Taking a breath, he nodded and gathered a few journals from the table before heading toward the door. "I think I'll leave you two alone and see how that location spell is going."

Alaric's footsteps echoed down the hall, ricocheting inside of Damon's head like a pinball as he clung to the mantle tight enough to feel the granite groan in protest beneath his fingertips.

"This isn't going to help Elena," Stefan said quietly after a long moment, having moved silently across the room to stand just behind him.

_I know, _Damon grimaced, letting his chin drop to his chest as he gripped the mantle even tighter. "I knew asking for your help was a mistake."

"Damon-."

"Why don't you take your condescending attitude back to fucking…wherever the hell you were and leave me alone," he said. "I'll find Elena on my own."

"You don't mean that."

"No, I really do," Damon promised, pushing away from the mantle and heading straight for the bar. Why had he thought that asking Stefan for help would amount to anything but disaster? "I don't need you judging me for fucking up and letting her get kidnapped, I'm doing that well enough on my own."

"Judging you?" Stefan repeated with genuine surprise. "You think I'm…Damon, if anybody knows what you feel like right now, it's me."

Briefly, Damon closed his eyes before looking up at his brother. "You think you know how I feel?"

"Yeah, I do," he admitted, calmly joining him at the bar and picking up a glass. Pouring a single shot of whiskey, he continued. "You feel like a failure. Like you had one job – keeping her safe – and you couldn't even do that right. You're feeling like her life would have been a whole lot better if you'd just stayed away. Did I miss anything?"

Damon swallowed, dropping his gaze as the longing and despair momentarily overrode the anger and injustice. "Just the part where this is all my fault," he said, overcome with weariness as the adrenaline rush of his attack on Katherine suddenly faded. Pouring another drink took concentrated effort, but he managed. Swirling the amber liquid in the glass, he made his way to the straight-backed chair Alaric had abandoned. Sitting heavily, he stared into the glass before continuing. "Other than that…you nailed it."

Stefan chuckled. "I had a lot of practice," he said, claiming a chair on the other side of the table. Sipping his whiskey, he added. "No one knows what it's like to lose Elena better than me."

_What the fuck does that mean? _Damon looked up sharply as a spike of anxiety twisted in his gut. If Stefan was implying that he missed Elena, that after three years there were still residual, _romantic _feelings for her, he was going to fucking explode. All over his face.

Stefan's face, however, held no longing or regret as he easily met Damon's eye. Realizing that his brother had used the word 'lose' in the most literal sense, the knot of apprehension in Damon's chest loosened.

Elena _was _a goddamn trouble magnet.

"You're right," he said, shaking his head as he briefly appreciated the macabre humor in the situation. "I guess I should be grateful it took three years for this to happen."

"Probably," his brother agreed. "And now that we've got that out of the way…what the hell happened, Damon?"

Instantly, the humor was gone, but this time he didn't feel like throttling anybody into a wall. Taking a fortifying drink of his bourbon, Damon raised a brow. "I got fucking careless."

* * *

_The Atlanta sun blazed in the sky as Damon leaned against his car and watched the baggage claim doors through the tinted lenses of his sunglasses. Crossing his arms tightly over his chest, he resisted the urge to blur through the congested traffic and track Elena down inside of the building._ Airports suck, _he reminded himself and just because he hadn't heard a word from her since she'd texted him from the plane half an hour ago didn't mean that she'd met with some sort of evil between the gate and the baggage claim._

You made it nine whole days without her, Salvatore, don't lose your shit in the home stretch.

_Nine days ago, Elena had boarded a plane to Mexico en route to spring break in Cozumel with Caroline and Bonnie. The trip had marked the first time they'd been apart for more than forty-eight hours since…well, he couldn't remember when. Even before they'd officially become a couple, they'd seen each other on a daily basis for one reason or another. _

_It had bothered him to no end that the very idea of letting her out of his sight had made him uneasy, but outwardly he'd handled the situation rather well – although he doubted Caroline would have agreed. The minute he'd heard about the proposed trip, he'd called the blonde vampire and explained, in very graphic detail, how he planned to kill her if she let anything happen to Elena. She'd huffed and protested as if he were the most overbearing and ridiculous being on the planet, but evidently the message had gotten through loud and clear. _

_Elena's cell phone had stayed charged the entire trip and not one single call or text had gone unanswered. _

_Scanning the latest surge of people scurrying through the doors, Damon finally found the one he was waiting for. His shoulders sagged with relief as he waited for Elena to find him._

I will _not_ go meet her,_ he vowed, shifting his weight impatiently, his gaze never straying from her slight form. _

_That conviction was sorely challenged the moment she saw him, however. _

_Pushing her sunglasses up off of her face and into her hair like a headband, she grinned, her smile hitting him in the gut and making him very glad he was leaning against the car. He wasn't parked far from the doors, but it felt like an eternity as she slowly pushed her way through the throng of people. _

_The trip had treated her well. The Mexico sun had deepened her olive skin tone a few shades and freedom from classes had erased the fine lines of stress around her eyes. She looked happier than he'd seen her since Christmas and he was suddenly, intensely glad she'd gone on the trip. _

_Even if he'd nearly gone crazy without her. _

"_Hi," she said the second she was within earshot. _

"_Hi, yourself," he replied with forced nonchalance as she drew near, dropped her bag at his feet, and threw her arms around his neck. Immediately returning the embrace, he dropped the stoic façade and crushed her to his chest, lifting her off of the ground. _

God, she feels good.

_He felt her laughter before he heard it. "Did you miss me?" she asked. _

"_You have no idea," he admitted, aching to kiss her, but not trusting himself to stop there the second he got a taste of her. _

"_Didn't Ric keep you occupied?" she asked as he eased her back down to the ground, keeping his arms firmly locked around her body, his keen hearing catching the deceptively innocent tone hidden behind the teasing remark._

_Damon raised a brow. In what was either the most astonishing coincidence of all time or – more likely – a plot orchestrated by Elena, Alaric had called to announce that he had had a teaching conference in Atlanta _the exact same week_ as her spring break. "Oh yeah, Ric was a great distraction. I didn't think about you at all."_

"_Ha," she declared, curling her fingers into his t-shirt as she leaned back and caught his eye. "He already ratted you out. He said you were a total buzzkill the entire time. Moping around - ."_

"_I don't _mope."

"_Constantly checking your phone," she continued as if he hadn't spoken. "Completely ruined the conference for him."_

"_Yeah, well, since I'm pretty sure there was no conference and that this was all a plan of yours to keep me occupied, I don't care," he replied. _

_Elena gasped in mock indignation. "I don't know_ what_ you're talking about." _

"_Like hell." _

_She lifted her chin and looked away, grin still firmly intact. "You know what this means, don't you?" she asked, looking at him coyly from the corner of her eye._

_He knew that look – it scared the shit out of him and turned his insides into mush in equal measure. Warily, he tilted his head as he asked. "What_ what_ means?"_

"_I survived an_ entire week_ on my own," she said, only slightly patronizing as she pressed her palms flat against his chest and smoothed them up and over his shoulders. Raising a brow, she continued. "Maybe it's time to start easing up on the over-protective stuff." _

"_You're not home yet," he teased. "A lot can happen between here and the apartment."_

"_You're ridiculous," she said, rolling her eyes as she locked her fingers around his neck. A sudden breeze kicked in, lifting her long hair and blowing it in her face. Damon reached up before she could, sweeping it over her shoulder before cradling her face in his hand. Her expression softened at his touch as she looked back at him. The mood shifted slightly as her gaze roamed his features. "I really did miss you." _

"_Good," he said, rubbing his thumb against her cheek. "I'd hate to hear you forgot about me." _

"_Not possible," she said, turning her head slightly and pressing a kiss to his palm. Holding her again felt like a dream and the feel of her lips against his skin was intoxicating. Not that he'd_ really_ been concerned that she wouldn't come back to him, but there was always the chance. Klaus's specter – along with the ghosts of all of the threats they'd faced – was never very far from his mind._

"_Did you have a good time?" he asked, drawing her closer with the hand at her hip until her body was pressed against his from hip to chest. _

"_Yeah," she nodded with a soft smile as her gaze dropped to his mouth. Rising on her toes, she kissed him before murmuring. "But I'm really ready to go home now." _

_Damon didn't need to be told twice._

* * *

Sipping his whiskey, Stefan listened patiently as Damon berated himself, internalizing the blame for Elena's current situation. He'd expected nothing less, having been mentally preparing for this moment since he'd gotten Damon's phone call the night before, but he still found it unsettling. The last time they'd spoken, Damon had been…_Damon_, his infuriatingly cynical and sarcastic brother, taking nothing seriously and seemingly unmoved by anything.

Except Elena.

Finding Katherine and convincing her to give their relationship a chance had given Stefan a purpose during the months following their defeat of Klaus. Having accomplished said purpose and finally being, after one hundred and fifty years, at peace with his vampirism, he'd had a chance to think about the way he and Elena had ended things.

More specifically, he'd had a chance to fully grasp what an asshole he'd been.

He'd told her the truth when he'd said he hadn't regretted what he'd done to her in Savannah, but as his humanity had balanced out with his vampiric nature, the regret – and remorse – had kicked in with a vengeance. He'd used her, albeit unknowingly, as a replacement for Katherine and then he'd literally tossed her aside like she'd meant nothing. Their relationship had been doomed from the start, and Elena had deserved better.

After arriving at that conclusion, he'd spent another year working up the courage to contact her and tell her as much. He'd been grateful when the call on her birthday had gone straight to voicemail and had reconciled himself to the fact that, while she may never call back, at least he'd tried.

But she _had_ called him back, and without directly addressing what had happened, they'd begun to repair their damaged relationship. They'd never really been friends, but as they'd talked, Stefan had begun to hope that perhaps they could be – if for no other reason than the man they both had in common.

After he'd left Mystic Falls, Stefan had assumed that he and Damon would lose touch as they always did in between their sporadic meetings over the decades, but his brother had surprised him – not just because he'd called, but because for the first time since before they'd been turned, Damon had actually sounded…_happy._

Elena's name hadn't come up, but Stefan hadn't needed to hear it to know the source of his older brother's contentment. He hadn't forgotten the effect the human girl had on people – and on Damon in particular. Simply knowing Elena had restored his humanity and saved his eternal existence. Actually _being _with her had given his life meaning and purpose where before there had only been emptiness and pain. Losing her now would break him and nothing, not the bonds he'd made with Jeremy and Alaric, nor his blood ties to Stefan, would be enough to keep him from self-destructing.

He couldn't let that happen.

When Damon had called, Stefan hadn't hesitated. He and Katherine had boarded the first flight to Denver and collected Jeremy before heading to Virginia.

Nursing his bourbon, Damon picked at the frayed edges of an old county map as he shifted the conversation away from the ways he'd failed Elena and onto the details of the 'animal attacks'. "The killings here were a distraction," he explained after he'd relayed the pertinent details. "Landis must have been watching us, waiting for a chance to grab her."

Stefan nodded, recalling the few run-ins he'd had with Landis during the 1920s and 30s. He'd been adrift for much of that time, alternating between bouts of Ripper-esque bloodlust and a strict diet of animal blood when Lexi had been able to keep him in check. Damon had spent more time with the new vampire, but Stefan had seen enough to know that his worry for Elena wasn't without merit. "Landis always did like to plan. The more elaborate the game, the more he enjoyed it."

Glancing up at him, Damon scowled. "Coming up with creative ways to kill people is the only thing he ever did well."

"Did anything happen in Atlanta?" he asked, attempting to keep his brother's mind occupied before it wandered back to thoughts of Elena and exactly how Landis might be putting his creativity to use. "Were there any clues?"

"I don't know. Maybe," Damon frowned as his gaze turned inward. "I've been a little…distracted."

_Distracted? _Stefan waited for him to elaborate, but he seemed to sink deeper into his memories. Thinking back to their last conversation, Stefan tried to remember if his brother had mentioned any problems that he might have been having. _Yeah right. _No matter how close they got, Damon would rather eat glass than reveal too much about his relationship with Elena.

Setting his glass on the table, Stefan leaned forward in his chair and pressed the issue anyway. "Is there something else going on?"

Damon lifted his head, blinking as if surprised to see Stefan there. Swallowing, he quickly recovered himself and shook his head. "The bodies here were a message. Everything about them – the places they were found, the manner of death, their clothes – it was all a freaking neon sign pointing toward what happened in South Carolina and I was too stupid to pick up on it," he scowled, rising from his chair and stalking restlessly away from the table. "What difference does it fucking make? Elena's still gone."

"We'll get her back, Damon," Stefan promised quietly. "We've faced a lot worse than Landis."

Damon stopped pacing, turning to stare at him with such naked desperation that Stefan wished he'd kept his mouth shut. Elena was in trouble – _real _life and death trouble for the first time in a very long time. All of the bravado and promises in the world would amount to exactly nothing if Landis decided to kill her before they found her.

A soft knock sounded on the library door, drawing their attention. Poking his head inside, Alaric announced. "Bonnie's got a location."

* * *

Elena couldn't move her body.

She'd only been compelled once before Landis had kidnapped her– that she knew of, of course – and it had been nothing like this. Elijah had used the mind control precisely, making a single demand that she'd followed without question or qualm. Landis used compulsion like a conversation technique, inundating her brain with commands to the point where she was too confused to do more than breathe and suffer in silence as he tortured her.

Tears welled in her eyes, running down her cheeks in a steady stream as Landis took his time feasting on her blood. He'd cut her from elbow to wrist – not deep enough for her to bleed out, but enough for the wound to burn as he held her arm aloft and let the blood drip off of her fingertips and into his waiting mouth.

He hadn't ordered her to watch, so she'd closed her eyes against the horror of what was happening, choosing to retreat into her mind as she searched for some safe haven. She wasn't sure how long she'd been in the motel room – hours, days, weeks – and time had ceased to have any meaning as she'd drifted in and out of consciousness. _Damon must know I'm gone, _she thought desperately as Landis switched arms. Even if it had only been hours, he would have noticed that she wasn't answering her phone or texting him.

_But we were fighting, _she suddenly remembered with renewed panic. What if he hadn't noticed? What if he thought her silence was just her childish way of paying him back?

What if he didn't know that Landis had her?

_Oh, god, _she thought even as her whimper of distress got lodged in her throat due to Landis's compulsion. An incredible helplessness surged over her, rendering her incapable of drawing a breath. This was her fault. Maybe not the kidnapping, but the compulsion and helplessness were all on her. Damon hadn't known that she'd stopped taking vervaine on a regular basis long before they'd started sharing blood. Much like keeping her cell phone charged, the vervaine regimen had been a casualty of her own laziness. The peace following Klaus's death had very quickly lulled her into a false sense of security.

* * *

_Elena opened her eyes to find Damon leaning over her, caressing her cheek reverently. His panicked features took over her entire field of vision as the details of how she'd ended up on the ground in the woods with a tree root digging into her back returned. _

_It had been six months since the sacrifice, four since they'd killed Klaus and to Elena's surprise, Tyler had been fielding calls from Jules' pack in Florida the entire time. They'd been inquiring after the woman, wanting to know where she was and why they hadn't heard from her. Tyler had given them excuse after excuse, but eventually they'd run out of patience and vowed to make the trip to Mystic Falls to find their packmate themselves._

_Which was a problem considering the fact that Jules was dead. _

_Tyler had attempted to keep it a secret, but with a girlfriend like Caroline, that had been easier said than done. Word had made its way through their tight-knit circle and Damon had been quick to issue Elena a warning. _

_Stay the fuck out of it._

"_Elena?" he murmured as she blinked at the moon peeking through the bare branches of the trees overhead. _

"_What happened?" she asked, struggling to sit up and immediately regretting it as a sharp stab of pain made her head throb. _

_He let out a sigh of relief, covering his face with his hand. A gust of wind swept through the clearing, shifting the dappled moonlight filtering through the branches overhead. Elena frowned at Damon's hand, sucking in a startled breath as she realized it was stained with blood. _

"_Oh, my god, Damon," she cried forgetting everything else as she grabbed his hands, yanking them toward her for closer inspection. There were no cuts, of course, nothing to indicate that he'd even been injured, but as her gaze traveled over his skin and up the torn sleeves of his leather jacket she knew some of the blood had to be his. _

_There was just too much of it. _

_Horrified, her gaze flew to his face, further questions on the tip of her tongue, but whatever she'd planned on saying died on her lips as she took in the anger blazing from his eyes. Elena swallowed. "Damon?"_

"_Get up," he ordered, helping her roughly to her feet and catching her as a wave of dizziness made her sway. Briefly, she closed her eyes and brought her hand to her forehead, jerking it away as it came into contact with something sticky. _

_More blood._

_Opening her eyes, she stared at her fingers before looking around the clearing. _

Holy shit.

_The ground was littered with the bodies of Jules' pack – bloody holes in the center of their chests or backs where their hearts had been violently ripped out– and Elena remembered more of what had happened. _

_She hadn't stayed out of it._

_To her credit, she'd tried, avoiding the subject whenever Caroline had brought it up, but it hadn't taken long for Elena to cave under her own guilt. Jules had been a casualty of their war against Klaus – a war she wouldn't even have been a part of if it hadn't been for Elena being the doppelganger. Tyler didn't deserve to face the angry pack alone._

_She'd intended to be little more than another presence – there was strength in numbers, right? – but as with all of her plans, things had quickly spiraled out of control. Unbeknownst to her, the meeting had been scheduled on a full moon and the hot-tempered werewolves had been primed for a fight. One of them – a small girl who'd made up for her lack of physical size with an amazingly strong backhand – had lost control of her emotions after Tyler had reluctantly revealed that Jules had died in the sacrifice. She'd lashed out at Elena, sending her careening headfirst into a tree._

"_Let's go," Damon ordered, wrapping an arm around her waist as he dragged her across the clearing. _

"_What about Caroline and Tyler?" she asked, unable to look away from the massacre. _

"_They're fine," he replied shortly, tightening his grip. She wanted to ask more questions, to find out exactly what had happened after she'd hit the tree and blacked out. How had Damon gotten there? Who had called him? _

_Had he killed_ all _of the werewolves?_

"_Stop," she said, noticing something strange on one of the bodies. Digging her heels into the ground when he didn't listen, she repeated. "Damon, _stop_._"

_The small girl who'd hit her was lying on her back, staring straight up at the clear sky. The moonlight was shining directly onto her face, glinting off of the glossy curve of her teeth. _

_Her very long, very canine teeth. _

"_Turning," Elena murmured as the realization dawned on her. Whirling around to face Damon, she repeated. "She was turning."_

_Grimly, he met her gaze, his fury simmering just beneath the surface. "I know." _

_She frowned as she struggled through the pain of her head wound to put the pieces together. Full moon…werewolves…Damon covered in blood. _

"_Damon, who's blood is that?" she asked, gesturing weakly at him as she tried not to panic. _

"_We need to go," he said, grabbing her wrist with bloodstained fingers and pulling her away from the gruesome scene. _

"_Answer the question, Damon," she insisted, her voice rising in mounting hysteria. She felt dizzy, light headed in a way that had nothing to do with her head wound. "Please, just tell me who's-."_

"_I don't know," he hissed, whirling on her and grabbing her by the shoulders. "I don't know if any of them bit me, okay? I don't fucking know."_

_She stared at him as tears flooded her eyes, blurring her vision. Her heart sank to the depths of her soul as a hole opened up inside of her. She brought her trembling hands to her mouth as a sob bubbled up in her throat. Shaking her head, she uttered the only word that her terrified brain could form. "No. _No_._"

_Damon had told her that Rose's bite had healed before resurfacing, and frantically, she leapt at him, pawing at his jacket and prying it apart to search for signs of a wolf bite. His T-shirt was in shreds, the skin beneath the tattered strips in perfect condition, offering her no clues as to whether Damon was, even now, being poisoned from the inside out._

_Scowling, he roughly grabbed her hands, stopping her frantic search, before hauling her through the woods to his car. Elena couldn't think, could barely breathe around the horrifying notion that he may have been bitten by a werewolf that night saving her. _

I might be the reason Damon dies.

_He opened the door for her, shoving her into the passenger seat before blurring around the hood and climbing behind the wheel._ Why didn't I listen to him?_ she agonized, letting her gaze travel up the tattered sleeves of his leather jacket to his set jaw. It seemed to be made of stone except for the muscle that ticked as he grit his teeth and stomped on the accelerator. The Camaro lurched down the road, going from zero to sixty at an astonishing rate that would have made her heart skip a beat if it hadn't already been thundering in her chest. _

_By the time he pulled into his driveway, she'd gone beyond rational thought to simply repeating a single mantra over and over. _

Please let him be okay, please let him be okay…

_Barely pausing to kill the engine, Damon climbed out of the car and blurred inside, leaving the front door ajar for Elena to follow. Forcing her numb limbs to obey her commands, she raced behind him, hating her clumsy human reflexes as she tripped up the stairs. By the time she reached his bedroom, he was in the shower, his bloody clothes leading a trail from the doorway to the bathroom. She nearly joined him, stopping at the last moment as another emotion finally cut through the paralyzing fear ruling her actions. _

_Guilt. _

_She should have listened to him. _

_Slowly, she followed the trail of clothes, picking up each ruined and bloodstained piece on her way into the bathroom. She caught her reflection in the mirror above the sink, immediately recoiling at her ghastly appearance. Damon's clothes slipped from her fingers as she stepped closer, staring with macabre fascination at the stranger in the glass. Blood from her wound had run down the side of her face, dripping onto her shirt and jacket and drying in matted clumps in her hair. Black streaks marred her cheeks where her mascara had mixed with her tears. Her eyes were bloodshot and wide with fear and adrenaline. _

_She looked as awful as she felt. _

_Shaking herself from her momentary stupor, she shrugged out of her jacket and let it fall to the floor as the water stopped and Damon emerged. She studied his reflection as he wrapped a towel around his waist without drying off. The blood was gone and he once again looked perfect. Not even a scratch marred his skin, let alone anything that resembled the festering wound she remembered from that spring. _

But does that mean anything?_ she wondered_. Had it been long enough?

_Damon's face was stoic as he caught her eye in the mirror, and something that looked like concern flashed across his features. Grabbing a washcloth from a pile near the shower, he came to stand beside her and turned on the cold water. Soaking the cloth beneath the stream, he rang it out and took her chin in his cool fingers as he began wiping away the blood. _

_Arriving at the deep gash on her forehead, he tightened his grip and pressed the cloth over the wound, making her hiss with pain. He gently stroked her jaw in a reassuring caress, but when she opened her eyes she found him looking at her with indifference. _

"_Are you okay?" she whispered. _

"_It's stopped bleeding," he said, ignoring her question. He held her gaze for a long moment before replacing his hand with her own over the wet rag. "You'll be fine."_

_Releasing her abruptly, he stalked away into the bedroom, leaving Elena to grapple with his sudden absence. He was angry – she could feel it radiating off of in him waves – and she still didn't know if he was going to live or die. _

_Following him with the washcloth still pressed to her forehead, she began. "Damon-."_

"_I'll be fine, Elena," he snapped, already half dressed in a clean pair of jeans. _

"_How do you know?"_

"_It's been long enough," he explained cryptically, pulling a long-sleeved T-shirt out of a drawer. "We can talk about it later."_

_Stung, she stared at him as he pulled the shirt over his head. "Where are you going?"_

"_Out."_

"_Out?" she repeated, her voice rising shrilly in alarm. "What do you mean_ out_?_"

"_I mean_ out _as in not here," he replied, sitting on the bed and pulling on his boots. He wasn't facing her, wouldn't even look at her and it was making her feel sick. _

He means out as in away from me.

"_Damon, you…you can't just_ leave_," she insisted, forgetting about her injury as she crossed to him and sat beside him on the bed. He stood up the instant she reached for him, walking to the bathroom and retrieving his battered jacket from the floor and assessing the damage. Undaunted by the physical rebuff, she continued. "We-we need to talk-."_

"_About what, Elena?" he asked, letting his ruined jacket fall to the floor and finally looking at her. "What do you want to _talk_ about? The fact that you could have been killed tonight, or that I_ told_ you to stay the fuck out of Tyler's werewolf problem and you ignored me?"_

_She bit her lip and lowered her gaze, feeling her face flush with shame. "Damon, I-I know. I get it, okay? But this was my fault-."_

"_Jesus Christ,_ Elena_," he cried, throwing up his hands in frustration. "When are you going to stop taking the blame for every fucking thing that happens just because you were involved?_ Klaus_ killed Jules. Not you. And she was a bitch anyway."_

"_I-I know," she stammered, blinking away tears. "I'm…I'm sorry." _

"_You're sorry?" he scoffed. "Well, that just makes all the fucking difference in the world." _

"_Damon, please-."_

"Elena_," he warned, silencing her with a look laced with as much hurt as anger. _I didn't mean for this to happen,_ she sobbed internally, but the words were meaningless. He'd asked her to stay out of it and she hadn't listened, inadvertently dragging him into a potentially lethal confrontation with the werewolves. _

_Lowering her gaze to the floor, hot tears pooled in her eyes and spilled down her cheeks. She felt the weight of his gaze as he watched her for a moment before walking out of his bedroom and leaving her to deal with her guilt alone._

* * *

The blood loss was making Elena lightheaded, even in her prone and motionless position, and she couldn't seem to keep her eyes open. Feasting on her blood, Landis didn't even notice.

Slipping closer to unconsciousness, she began bargaining with the universe as her thoughts started to disconnect. If Damon found her, she wouldn't take her safety for granted. She'd stop the blood exchanges and go back on the vervaine. She'd listen to him, follow his rules and stop fighting him at every turn when he was just trying to keep her safe. She'd do _anything _so long as she could be with him again and go back to the life they'd built in Atlanta.

Giving in to the soft, warm darkness, she offered up a final prayer.

_Please let Damon find me. _


	9. All Good Things

_AN: Usually, my beta has to tell me to push the stakes higher, to make the violence more destructive, the sex more erotic, whatever. In this chapter, for the first time ever, she had to reign me in. I came up with something that, while she thought it was awesome, was too much for the fic, all things considered. Her actual words were "This fic is dark enough." I was so surprised, I had to tell you all about it. If you're curious as to what was TOO dark for DaCP, put your guess in a review and I'll let you know when I reply - and for those of you who review, you know I always reply. _

_Thank you for all of the replies, favorites and alerts. I so very much love knowing that you're enjoying the fic. I hope the trend continues with this chapter._

"_**You can't compel me, Katherine."**_

"_**I'm not compelling," she argued. "I'm begging."**_

Chapter Nine – All Good Things

Damon Salvatore was going to snap.

Standing by the window in the living room, Katherine stood apart from the group, eyeing her former lover. She didn't need heightened senses to pick up on the barely contained rage coursing through the elder Salvatore, not to mention the healthy dose of fear radiating off of him in waves.

Barely containing his agitation, Damon stood next to Stefan on the opposite side of the coffee table from the rest of the group who were huddled around Bonnie on the couch. All eyes and ears were glued on the witch - except for Katherine's - her focus remained on Damon as his patience continued to unravel. One wrong move or a sudden gesture from any one of the oblivious morons and they might find themselves missing a limb…or a heart.

It was Damon's passion in all things that had always been his greatest strength. People – _humans – _were drawn to it like moths to the flame, eager to be a part of that energy, and often with fatal results. That same passion sometimes proved to be his greatest weakness, consuming him and everybody around him to the point of total annihilation.

And at the moment, it was threatening to eat him alive.

All over Elena Freaking Gilbert.

* * *

_Leaning over the sink in the bathroom, Katherine carefully lined her full lips with a deep red pencil before adding two coats of lipstick in a matching color. Capping the tube, she straightened up and observed her work, turning her head to the right and the left before deciding she was satisfied. _

Perfect_, she thought, fluffing her hair at the roots and making her long spiral curls dance around her shoulders. Tossing the lipstick tube on the counter with the rest of her make-up, she turned off the light in the luxury, penthouse suite bathroom and sauntered into her equally luxurious hotel room. _

Absolutely perfect.

_A knock sounded on the door, diverting her path to the balcony and the majestic view overlooking scenic downtown Washington, D.C. She and Stefan had been in the nation's capital for nearly three months, taking advantage of the city's dense population and its high homicide rate. Technological advances in law enforcement had drastically reduced her body count in the past few decades, but there had been a few…_accidents_. _

"_Room service," the smartly dressed hotel employee announced as she opened the door. Katherine smiled in response, holding out a hand and ushering him into the room. _

"_Right on time," she murmured, eyeing the bottle of champagne chilling in a silver wine bucket. Five delicate crystal champagne flutes were arrayed artfully next to the overflowing dessert platter. Plucking a strawberry dipped in dark chocolate from the tray, she sank her teeth into the ripe fruit. _

"_Is everything to your liking?" _

"_Mmm, it's perfect," Katherine replied, closing her eyes as she savored the taste before turning around to face the attendant._

"_Will there be anything else then, Miss?" _

_Tilting her head to the side, she let her gaze drop to his throat._ Just a taste_, she thought as her mouth began to water and she felt the sharp pinch as her fangs descended. Something to tide her over until Stefan returned with the main course. No one would need to know._

_Abruptly, she stopped, retracting her fangs as she took a physical step backwards. _Better not spoil my appetite.

"_No," she said, dragging her gaze back up to his eyes with a soft sigh of disappointment. She pushed a bit of compulsion at the server out of habit, making him forget her face as she guided him out of the door. _

_Returning to the cart, she was about to open the champagne when a shrill sound she recognized as Stefan's ringtone interrupted her plans. Frowning, she turned toward the unmade bed, surprised to find his cell phone sticking out from beneath one of the pillows. _

_Obviously, he'd left it behind. _

_Curious, she plucked another strawberry from the tray as she approached the bed, crawling onto the mattress and picking it up. Upon seeing the caller ID, she groaned._

_Damon. _

Let it go to voicemail,_ she thought, putting the ringing device back where she found it. There was nothing to say to Damon - ever - and despite the tentative truce they'd reached after working together to free Stefan from Klaus's nefarious clutches, there was no reason for her to speak to him again for the next century. _

_Or two. _

_Halfway back to the room service cart however, she paused. Stefan cared. After she'd teased him one too many times about the brothers' sporadic phone conversations interrupting her time with him, he'd wheedled a promise out of her. _

_A promise to_ try_. _

Fuck_. _

_Heaving an exaggerated sigh, she returned to the bed and snatched the phone from the rumpled covers. "Hello, Damon," she stated flatly, hating Stefan for asking this of her and hating herself for loving him too much to say no. "Stefan's not here."_

_Click. _

What the hell? _The dial tone mocked her as Katherine frowned, pulling the phone away from her ear and staring at the generic home screen display. _Did that bastard just hang up on me? _Indignation surged through her, heating the blood in her veins as she hit a button and called the elder Salvatore back. "No fucking way."_

_The first call rang until Damon's voicemail picked up - as did the second and third - but Katherine kept calling, determined to not let him have the satisfaction of the metaphorical last word. On the fifth attempt, he finally answered. _

"_Jesus Christ," Damon cursed. "What the hell do you want?"_

"_You hung up on me," Katherine hissed, pressing the phone tightly to her ear. "I was trying to be nice and you fucking hung up on me." _

"_You nice?" he scoffed. "Since when?"_

"_Since…," she began, trailing off when the confession got stuck on her tongue. _Goddammit, Stefan_, she thought darkly. She was going to find ways to make him pay for this. Closing her eyes, she grit her teeth before admitting, "Since I promised Stefan I'd…try." _

"_Try," he repeated after a ringing silence that had made her wonder if he'd hung up on her anyway. "Try_ what_?_"

"_To be…civil," she said, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment as Damon guffawed. Stefan had used the word_ nice_ and suggested she attempt to get along with his brother, but he'd have to settle for_ civil. _Angrily, she muttered. "Stop laughing." _

"_Are you kidding me? That's the funniest thing I've heard in months," he declared, all traces of annoyance gone as he reveled in her discomfort. _

_Scowling, she declared. "I'm hanging up now."_

"_That doesn't sound like _trying _to me, Katherine," Damon teased. "What would Stefan say?"_

"_What about Elena?" she taunted in a desperate attempt to regain the upper hand. "I'm sure the list of ways she's tried to change you is long and far more humiliating than Stefan's one little request."_

"_You'd think that, but you'd be wrong," he replied, the cocky smirk evident in his tone. Katherine wanted to reach through the connection and slap it off of his face._

"_Bullshit."_

"_Language, Katherine," Damon tsked. "I don't think Stefan would call that_ trying_._ _It would offend his genteel sensibilities." _

"_You're such a dick," she replied heatedly, wondering how he'd regained the upper hand so quickly._ This is why it doesn't pay to try.

"_And you're so pathetically in love with my brother it's comical."_

"_This coming from_ you_," she taunted, seizing on the opportunity he'd presented her and attacking his weakness. "You're so enamored with Elena, I'll bet she didn't even have to_ ask _you to change. You just voluntarily curbed your questionable appetites. How else would Damon Salvatore be satisfied with such an inexperienced_ human_? I mean, really, aside from the obvious resemblance to me, I don't know what you see in her. She's so judgy…and breakable." _

"_And yet, she's never once asked me to_ play nice_ with the likes of you," he replied, refusing to rise to the bait. "She's got the good sense to hate you as much-."_

"_This is boring," Katherine announced, abruptly hanging up on him. Taking great satisfaction in the act, she turned off the cell phone completely and shoved it under the pillow. Grumbling, she scooted off of the bed and quickly returned to the room service cart. Grabbing a bottle of champagne, she ripped off the foil, popped the cork and took a long pull directly from the bottle. _

_Swallowing the fizzy drink, she wiped a few errant drops off of her chin, muttering. "I tried."_

* * *

"There's a resort here, really rustic and isolated," Bonnie explained, pointing to the spot on the map where Jeremy's blood had stopped moving. "Grams used to take me there during the summer when I was little. There are so many rare types of plants and herbs for spell work out there, plus it's surrounded by mountains, so I'll bet that's where the dream-."

"Okay, great. Fantastic," Damon interrupted, grabbing the witch by the arm and hauling her to her feet. "Let's go."

"Wait, what?" Bonnie exclaimed, tripping over Jeremy's legs as he dragged her across the room. "You want me to come?"

"Why are you bringing Bonnie?" Caroline demanded, a worried frown marring her features as she leapt to her feet and followed them. "She could get hurt."

"I might need a witch," Damon replied without turning around as he nodded at Stefan and the two of them headed into the foyer. Katherine rolled her eyes as the entire company - Alaric, Jeremy, Tyler and Caroline - rushed after them, babbling in a cacophony of useless protests. Katherine trailed behind, wishing that she'd had the strength to stay in San Francisco and let Stefan help out his brother on his own.

"I'm coming, too," Jeremy announced, making his voice heard above all of the others in the shadowed entryway.

"The hell you are," Damon sneered, wrenching open the front door and dragging Bonnie out into the drizzling rain.

"Elena's my sister, you can't make me stay behind," he argued, following the vampire outside with Alaric, Tyler and Caroline close on his heels.

"Pretty sure he can," Katherine supplied, earning her another warning look from Stefan as he paused in the doorway to glare over his shoulder. Rolling her eyes, she held up her hands in grudging apology and followed him into the rain, staying close, but not touching him. She wasn't worried - well, not any more than she ever was when Stefan had to face a supernatural threat. She knew of Landis and his brother Gregory and her money was on the Salvatores, but that didn't mean she was thrilled about the idea of him going without her.

Considering the fact that Damon could hardly look at her right now without seeing Elena, however, she figured her presence would be too much of a distraction. Distractions could tip the scales and get Stefan killed.

"Jeremy, you're human," Stefan said, playing interference and placing himself between Damon and the boy.

"So?" he retorted stubbornly, crossing his arms and glaring defiantly at Damon's retreating figure as he headed for his car. "Bonnie's human and she gets to go."

"I told you, I might need a goddamn witch," Damon snapped, whirling around so fast that Bonnie nearly fell to the ground. Stalking back up the front walk, he stopped directly in front of Jeremy, nearly standing on the boy's toes. "The only thing you can do with that damn ring is not stay dead."

"Yeah, and if Bonnie dies, she doesn't wake back up," Caroline protested, flanking Jeremy on his right side. "Ever."

Releasing Bonnie's arm, Damon turned on the blonde vampire, forcing her to back up several steps. "Caroline, I swear to fucking God-."

"Hey, chill out," Tyler cried, stepping bravely between the two vampires to protect his girlfriend.

"It is not a full moon, Lockwood, so I'd be very careful," Damon warned, stepping closer as the werewolf stupidly held his ground.

"Damon," Alaric said, placing a hand on his friend's shoulder. Katherine raised a brow, wondering what argument Mystic Falls' resident retired vampire hunter would have to add to the conversation. From the concerned looks he kept shooting Damon's way, she guessed he was more worried about the damage _Damon _could do at the moment than Landis. "They're just worried. So am I. It's been a long time since we've had to fight a battle like this. Maybe I should go. I've still got all of my stuff. I can back you and Stefan up."

"Please," Katherine muttered as she crossed her arms. Taking in Damon's thunderous expression, she came to a decision. If this went on any longer, he was going to, quite literally, explode. Turning to Stefan, she leaned in close and whispered for his ears alone. "You need to get Damon out of here before he kills someone and prolongs this ridiculous melodrama."

Stefan nodded, slipping an arm around her waist and pulling her close. His lips brushed against her ear as he said softly. "Keep them here. Don't let them follow us."

_That's the plan, _she thought, kissing him hard and fast before slipping out of his grasp and herding those staying behind back toward the house like cattle. During the flight to Denver, she and Stefan had discussed her role in what was to come. She'd agreed to stay behind and prevent anybody – especially Jeremy or Alaric – from following and becoming collateral damage. It had seemed like a good idea at the time, but now, however, considering Damon's precarious grip on…well, _everything, _Katherine was rethinking her decision.

"Enough. It's decided. Damon, Stefan and the witch go, the rest of us stay," she said, playing her part anyway as she stole a glance at the rental car parked behind Tyler's jeep. The keys were in her pocket. "It's the best chance precious little Elena has, so accept it and move on."

"Come on, Damon," Stefan said, guiding his brother and Bonnie toward the car. Taking the shocked witch's elbow, he asked. "Do you need anything?"

"I don't know," she stammered, doing her best to keep up with the vampires' pace. "I don't know what I'm up against."

"He's just a vampire," Stefan assured her as Damon went straight to the driver's side and climbed behind the wheel. Katherine watched him, feeling a pang of sympathy. She could imagine what he was going through –finally finding someone that mattered after so many years of loneliness, only to lose them due to circumstances outside of his control. She was impressed that he was even halfway rational.

As the Camaro roared to life, he looked up, meeting her gaze through the steady rain. A flash of pain crossed his face as he took in her features - Elena's features. Katherine wasn't worried about the doppelganger - the Salvatores had turned saving the pathetic girl into an art form and this time would be no different - but she offered Damon a small nod as Bonnie climbed into the backseat.

_You'll get her back, Damon, _Katherine thought. _If for no other reason than to continue to annoy me. _

Stefan gave her a strained smile as he claimed the passenger's seat and she held his gaze as Damon maneuvered the car down the driveway and out of sight. Immediately, worry wrapped itself around her heart, clinging to it with an irritating pressure that she knew wouldn't go away until he'd returned.

_That's it, _she thought as she turned to face the betrayed faces of those left behind, raising a brow as, one by one, they retreated into the Salvatore house. _I'm not staying here clutching my pearls with these losers. _

"Go inside, Ric," Katherine said when the teacher lingered in the rain. The sooner he joined the others inside, the sooner she could sneak away and go after the boys. "Or do you plan on waiting out here in the rain like a golden retriever for the next nine hours or so?"

Alaric barely glanced her way. Crossing his arms, he stared grimly into the rain toward the spot where the Camaro had disappeared around a corner. "Damon shouldn't have to do this alone. He's not…he's barely hanging on."

"He's not alone, he has Stefan," she reminded him, mounting the two steps to the entrance. She would never cease to be amused at the close friendship that had formed between the man Isobel had voluntarily widowed and the vampire who'd turned her. "He'll take care of him, Ric. A lot better than you could."

"Thanks," he replied dryly as he apparently accepted her reassurance and followed her into the house. Sighing, he closed the door and bowed his head as he muttered. "I need a drink."

Taking in the mutinous faces of the odd array of vampire, human and werewolf that she was supposed to baby-sit, Katherine rolled her eyes. "So do I."

* * *

"Elena…wake up."

Cutting through layers of sleep, the voice yanked Elena awake with a start. Blinking her eyes against a blindingly harsh white light, she immediately braced herself for the onslaught of disorientation and dull pain that had been her constant companion since Landis had kidnapped her, but it never came. Instead, she felt…normal, whole and unhurt.

_What the hell? _she wondered, squeezing her eyes shut and turning her face into the pillow beneath her head. The fabric of the pillowcase felt wrong – soft and smooth rather than stiff and scratchy – and the cheap scent of industrial grade laundry detergent had disappeared, replaced by something familiar and comforting…

Home.

_Damon._

"Elena? Baby, I need you to wake up," the voice spoke to her again, still gentle and soothing, but laced with a trace of unease. She turned toward the sound as her heart slammed against her ribs in fearful anticipation. This had to be a dream. She couldn't possibly be home, tucked safely in her own bed with Damon hovering near her, so close she could smell his cologne and feel the heat from his body. Fingertips brushed her cheek and she reached for them, closing her hand over them and holding them tight against her.

_Please don't let him disappear when I open my eyes. _

Tentatively and despite her fear, she did just that, biting her lip to hold back a sob of relief and joy at what she saw. "Damon."

"Hey," he replied, his lips curving into a soft smile. "You scared me for a minute there. You wouldn't wake up."

"You found me," she breathed, tears flooding her eyes as she gazed at him. "I knew you'd find me."

A line appeared between his brows. "What are you talking about?" he asked. "I just got back from Mystic Falls. I figured you'd be in class or something. Are you okay?"

It was Elena's turn to frown in confusion as she tore her gaze away from his and looked around the room. "I was…gone," she insisted, recalling the cheap motel room and the scent of blood. Already the details were fading around the edges, however, dulling like an old nightmare as she took in the familiar sheets on the bed, the soft fabric of her pajamas and the comforting feeling of Damon's strong arms around her.

_It couldn't have been a dream…could it?_

"_I _was gone," Damon said, slipping an arm beneath her shoulder blades and helping her sit up as he joined her on the bed. Automatically, she curled into him as he pressed a kiss to her temple. "You were right here. At home. Where you belong."

Speechless, Elena clung to him, soaking in his touch and the hard lines of his body against hers as she tried to comprehend reality. "It was a dream," she whispered, trying out the words and testing their weight. They felt good, _right. _Laughing breathlessly, she craned her neck to meet Damon's eye. "A nightmare."

"What was?" he asked, brushing her hair behind her ear in a tender caress.

"It doesn't matter," she replied, turning into his embrace and slipping a hand behind his head to tug him toward her. Their lips brushed in the barest of caresses as she murmured. "It's over now."

The corner of his mouth lifted as his gaze darted over her face. "I missed you."

"I missed you, too," she replied, her breath growing shallow as her pulse raced in anticipation. "So much, you have no idea."

"I think I have a _little _bit of an idea," he replied, taunting her with another brief kiss that only fueled the desire for him that was causing heat to pool low in her belly. "Five days without you is _way _too long."

"Let's never do it again then," she suggested, kicking off the covers so she could swing a leg over both of his and settle onto his lap. Her body was humming, aching for his touch with startling intensity. He watched her with hooded blue eyes – the _right _blue – utterly fascinated as she held his jaw with one hand and kissed him hard and fast.

"Deal," he breathed, his hands sliding down her back to grip her hips and hold her tight against him. Eager to banish the remnants of her nightmare, Elena moaned into his mouth, cradling his face as she kissed him with the pent up passion of their separation. His fingertips dug into her soft flesh hard enough to bruise, but it wasn't enough. She craved his strength.

All of it.

Deepening the kiss, she opened her mouth to him, tasting the contours of his lips and tongue as she rocked her hips against his by way of invitation. _God, he feels good, _she thought through the haze of her desire – solid and hard and _real _beneath her hands.

"I love you," she gasped between kisses.

"I can tell," he replied, sliding his hand up her back as he shifted his grip to her thigh. Flipping her onto her back, he rolled on top of her, pressing her into the mattress as he settled between her legs. "I love you, too."

Grinning, Elena lost herself in the fervor of his kisses. Human or vampire, she would never tire of hearing those words pass his lips, no matter how long she lived. Whimpering with pleasure, she cradled the back of his head as he turned his attention elsewhere. Traveling south, he blazed a trail of open mouthed kisses along her jaw and down the column of her throat. Her breath hitched as she felt the sharp prick of his fangs at her throat.

"Yes," she murmured, craning her neck to give him better access to her delicate flesh. Damon needed no further encouragement, sinking his fangs into her throat and drinking deeply from the pulsing vein. Her desire spiked, winding tighter and leaving her panting and breathless in his arms.

The glorious sensations ended far too quickly as he pulled away, running his tongue lightly over the wound before offering her his bloodied wrist. Drinking without hesitation, she wrapped her arms around him as he retraced a path up her neck to her ear. Taking the lobe between his teeth, he bit down on it gently, making her whimper in pleasure. His low chuckle reached inside of her all the way down to her sensitive core as he whispered. "Now I understand why he keeps you around."

Elena froze, her eyes flying open as the foreign, yet familiar, voice washed over her and doused the flames of her desire. Instead of the high, white ceiling of her bedroom in Atlanta, the ceiling was once again the yellowed and cracked tiles of the isolated motel room. The comforting scents of home were immediately replaced by the stench of bleach, fear and blood. Worst of all, the man looming over her, pressing her into the lumpy mattress wasn't Damon – had never _been _Damon.

_No. _

Lifting his head, Landis caught her eye and leered at her. "You enjoy being bitten," he said, dragging a finger over the tender bite marks as she gaped at him in horror. "You don't even need to be compelled. What a delightful find."

Humiliation and revulsion rolled through her, leaving her nauseous as she tried to push him away. Laughing, he acquiesced after her first few futile attempts, sitting back on his knees and allowing her roll away. Exhausted, she buried her face in the scratchy sheets, tasting blood in her mouth as she sobbed and the conflicting sensations of lust, fear, disgust and longing wreaked havoc on her mind and body.

"Come now," Landis chided, leaning close enough that his warm breath stirred the fine hairs at her temple. Cringing, Elena turned away as he continued. "I may have played with your mind, but your body acted of its own accord, Elena."

_Stop, _she wanted to scream as she sobbed even harder. _Please just stop. _Her heart ached for Damon as if she'd been ripped away from him all over again. Curling into the fetal position, she spiraled further out of control as the gravity of her desperate situation washed over her. She'd never felt so helpless, so at someone else's mercy. There was no arguing with Landis, no bargaining or negotiating – her agony was exactly what he wanted and she had nothing to offer him as an alternative.

"Enough tears," he stated briskly, grabbing her wrist and jerking her roughly off of the mattress. Elena cried out as her shoulder was nearly wrenched from its socket and she scrambled to gain her footing.

"What now?" she asked, her voice breaking pathetically as she peered at him through swollen eyes.

"Time for a change of scenery," Landis announced with the wolfish grin that was becoming sickeningly familiar. "We're going on a field trip."

* * *

_Selecting his favorite bourbon from the collection of bottles arranged on the kitchen counter, Damon poured two stiff drinks. Offering one to Alaric, he cast a wary look toward the balcony off of the living room where Elena was on the phone, deep in conversation with Caroline. Assuring himself that his girlfriend wasn't paying the slightest bit of attention to him, he filled another glass, sliding it across the kitchen counter to Jeremy._

"_Seriously?" the nineteen-year-old asked with wide eyes, already reaching for the liquor. _

_Damon held a finger to his lips as he continued to watch Elena. "If your sister finds out, you're on your own," he murmured before taking a sip of his drink. The bourbon burned pleasantly as it slid down his throat, despite the unseasonable June heat. _

"_So, Damon," Alaric began after a few moments, leaning against the kitchen counter and glancing toward the open balcony doors. "What'd you get Elena for her birthday?" _

"_Wouldn't you like to know," he replied cryptically, raising a brow. Alaric and Jeremy had used Elena's twentieth birthday the previous week as an excuse to invade his home for a long weekend. She'd been overjoyed to have them in town while he'd been_ _less than enthusiastic. _

_He hated sharing her – even with her brother and his best friend. _

"_I bet I can guess," Jeremy said, sharing a knowing look with Alaric. _

"_Doubt it," Damon said with confidence. _

"_I'm guessing it's small," Alaric said, idly swirling the bourbon in his glass. _

"_And expensive," Jeremy supplied as Damon rolled his eyes and brought his glass to his lips for a drink. _

"_And has something to do with making an honest woman out of Elena," the former vampire hunter finished with an exultant grin, crossing his arms. _

_Swallowing, Damon managed not to choke on his bourbon, but it was a near thing as his gaze darted between Alaric and Jeremy's twin expressions of triumph. Both men clearly believed they'd stumbled upon some great secret and he schooled his features carefully, determined not to give them the satisfaction of thinking they'd surprised them._

_Even if they had. _

_Alaric's grin faltered slightly in light of his non-reaction. "Did you hear what I said?"_

"_Yup," he nodded as his gaze drifted toward Elena momentarily. "But I don't speak 1956, so you're going to have to try again." _

"_Give it up, Damon," Jeremy chided, grimacing as he sipped the strong liquor. "Ric already found the receipt." _

"Jeremy_,_" _Alaric said in exasperation. _

"_Like he was going to believe that you just pulled the idea out of thin air," the younger man scoffed. "Give the man some credit."_

"_Yes, Ric," Damon said, setting his glass on the counter and clapping Alaric on the shoulder. "Give the man some credit and then tell him why you were going through his trash." _

"_I don't know what you're talking about," Alaric replied vaguely, hiding behind his glass._

"_Right," Damon sneered, shaking his head._ I should have burned that damned receipt. _"Do you make it a habit of going through other people's garbage or am I just special?"_

"_Come on, Damon," Jeremy chided. "Aren't you supposed to, like, ask for our permission or something?"_

"_Are you_ kidding_ me?" Damon demanded in wide-eyed astonishment._

"_Well, that's what guys did back in…," Jeremy frowned. "Whenever you were alive. You had to like, ask the girl's father for permission and arrange a…what's it called? A dowry."_

"_What? Do you have a research paper due, or something?" Damon asked. "I'm not sure if you've noticed, Jer, but I haven't exactly clung to my past." _

"_Okay, quit stalling, Salvatore," Alaric said, interrupting him before Damon could veer too far away from his original question. "The bottom line here is, I found a receipt for what looks like a very expensive ring that is definitely not your size. Care to explain?" _

Not a chance in hell._ Damon eyed the two men steadily, sipping his drink to stall for time. They deserved an explanation and maybe, as Elena's only family, he should have asked them for some kind of permission, but the ring wasn't what Alaric thought it was – it wasn't an engagement ring. He wasn't planning on asking Elena to marry him. _

_Damon highly doubted they were ready for the truth._

"_What are you guys talking about?" Elena asked, saving him from fabricating a lie on the spot by slipping an arm around his waist as she joined them in the kitchen. _

"_Nothing," he said, settling his arm over her shoulders and pulling her against his side. Catching Jeremy's eye, he raised a brow and inclined his head slightly toward the glass of bourbon at the younger man's elbow. "How's Caroline?"_

"_She's fine," Elena replied, looking up at Damon as Jeremy slid the illicit liquor behind him and leaned awkwardly against the counter to block it from her view. "I think somewhere in her very long story about her plans for the Founders' Chili Cook-Off she wished me a happy birthday." _

"_I am so glad I got out of that," Alaric admitted with a smug grin. "Thank you, Elena, for having a birthday and giving me an excuse to get the hell out of town."_

"_You're welcome," she replied, laughing as Damon breathed a sigh of relief. The conversation quickly veered toward Mystic Fall's latest event and away from talk of rings and proposals. Though Alaric and Jeremy eyed him suspiciously throughout the rest of the evening, they kept their questions to themselves, allowing the subject to drop. _

_Elena, however, wasn't as easy to put off. _

"_So, are you going to tell me the truth now?" she asked later that night as she climbed into bed and turned on her side to face him. _

_Putting an arm behind his head, Damon raised a brow as he played dumb. "What truth?"_

"_The truth about why Alaric and Jeremy were staring at you like you had two heads all night," she explained, meeting his appraising gaze with one of her own. Propping her head on her fist, she continued. "What were you talking about when I got off of the phone with Caroline?" _

_Sighing, he studied the resolve written into every line of her beautiful face, knowing she wouldn't be put off with anything but the truth. She'd spend the rest of the weekend digging and weighing every conversation for clues. Between the three of them – Alaric, Jeremy and Elena – they'd drive him crazy. _

"_This isn't how I planned on doing this," he explained, rolling over onto his other side and opening the top drawer of the nightstand. Keeping the black velvet box hidden in one hand, he turned back to her and found himself lost for a moment in her deep brown eyes._ I should have prepared a speech_, he thought as the first traces of anxiety wrapped around his throat and began to squeeze. The ring wasn't a proposal, but it_ was _a promise. It would mean a lot to her. _

_It would mean he hadn't forgotten. _

"_Damon…what is it?" she asked as her lips curved into a small, nervous smile. _

Aw, fuck it._ Dropping his gaze, he opened the box and held it out to her. "Happy Birthday, Elena."_

_Her eyes went wide as she took in the sight of the tiny silver ring lying on the plush black velvet. Two lapis lazuli stones were embedded in the twisting bands, like eggs in a nest. The ring was discrete, nothing as ostentatious as his daylight ring and the second he'd seen it, he'd known it would look perfect on her finger. _

"_Damon, I…I don't…" she stammered, her gaze darting from his face to the ring and back again._

"_It's not what you think," he assured her as he set the box on the mattress between them. "It's a daylight ring. _Your_ daylight ring."_

_Snapping her head up, she stared at him in shock. "Daylight ring," she repeated as understanding brought some of the color back into her pale cheeks. Tentatively, she picked up the box, studying the ring in the low light from the bedside lamp. He watched her carefully as her eyes grew shiny with unshed tears and another smile curved her lips. _

"_Do you like it?" he asked, watching her closely as he tried to ignore the nagging stab of anxiety in his gut._

"_It's beautiful," she murmured, tracing the delicate, twisting bands with the tip of her finger. "When did you…where did you…Damon, how did you do this?" _

"_Well," he replied, sitting up and propping the pillows behind his back. Wrapping an arm around her shoulders, he pulled her into his side. "I found the ring at an antique shop a while ago and thought it would be perfect for you. I took it to the witch who spelled your vervaine bracelet." _

_Elena studied the ring in silence for a moment. "Does this mean-."_

"_Not yet," he said, pressing a kiss to her crown._ God, not yet, _he thought, closing his eyes for a moment. "I just wanted you to have it, so that when you're ready…"_

"_To_ turn_," she teased, craning her neck to grin at him. _

_Rolling his eyes, he repeated. "To_ turn_, you're not stuck inside all day because we forgot the damn daylight ring." _

_Elena looked back at the ring before climbing to her knees and facing him. Tears flooded her eyes again as she reached for him, stroking his cheek before leaning in to place a lingering kiss on his lips. "Thank you," she replied, pulling away enough to give him a watery smile. _

_Kissing her again, he murmured. "You're welcome." _

_Dropping her gaze to his mouth, she chuckled softly. "You know, for a minute I thought it was…"_

"_I _know_ what you thought it was," Damon said with a smirk. "The same thing Ric thought it was when he found the receipt for it earlier tonight. _That's_ what we were talking about. He and Jeremy assumed I…well, the same thing you assumed, I guess." _

_Elena's cheeks turned pink as she fingered the delicate ring. "I didn't assume so much as…recoil in fear."_

"_Fear?" Damon repeated, hooking his hand under her thigh and pulling her onto his lap. "So, the idea of spending the rest of your life with me scares you, huh? What if I_ had_ been proposing? What would you have said?"_

"_I would have told you that you're crazy," she replied immediately as she settled back on his thighs and faced him. Holding the ring between them, she continued. "I'm only twenty."_

"_When I was your age, a single, twenty-year-old woman was a spinster," he pointed out. _

"_Yeah, well, when you were my age, marriage was a property arrangement," she retorted, leaning forward, but keeping her lips out of his reach as she teased him. "Especially for you, Rich Plantation Boy." _

"_Touché," Damon replied, raising a brow as he wrapped his fingers around the back of her neck and pulled her closer to capture her mouth. _

"_I would have said something else, too," she said softly when they came apart. They were still so close that he could feel the whisper of her breath against his lips. _

"_What's that?"_

"_I would have told you that I don't need a ring or a proposal or a piece of paper," she explained as the sparkle of laughter faded from her eyes and her expression grew serious. "I already know this is forever."_

"_You had better be careful," he warned playfully nipping at her bottom lip to mask the genuine sentiment of his words. "I'm actually starting to believe that." _

"_It's about time," she replied before turning her attention back to the ring for a few moments. "Will you do me a favor?" she finally asked. _

"_It's your birthday, I think it's in the rules that you get what you want." _

"_Keep this for me," she said, snapping the box shut and handing it back to him. "Until I'm ready to use it." _

"_Of course," he replied, closing his fingers around the black velvet box and returning it to the drawer in his nightstand. _

"_Thank you," she said, taking his face between her hands when he returned to her and kissed him fully. "It's beautiful," she added in the space between kisses. "And perfect. I love you." _

_Those three little words warmed him, but sometimes seemed so inadequate to accurately express how he felt about her, about the life they had together that he'd never dreamed possible. "I love you, too," he murmured anyway as she reached over him and switched off the light._

* * *

Briefly pressing his thumb and forefinger against his eyes, Damon blinked away the bitterly painful memory and stomped harder on the Camaro's accelerator. The speedometer jumped from ninety-five miles-per-hour to one hundred, and yet he still felt like they were crawling.

"Careful," Stefan warned in a low voice, glancing into the backseat at Bonnie. "If you crash we're going to be short a witch."

"I'm not going to fucking crash," Damon snapped, gripping the steering wheel tighter as the scenery sped by in a blur of green woodlands. They'd wasted too much time already. Bonnie had discovered Elena's location with an ease that his paranoid brain immediately distrusted, but they weren't dealing with Klaus or even Katherine. Landis may have been an expert at cruelty and imaginative torture, but his game was simpler. He _wanted _an audience. After taking on the Originals, dealing with a vampire like Landis should have been a relief, but it was worse.

So much worse.

Unless Damon had missed something, Landis hadn't taken Elena because of her doppelganger blood's magical powers and as such, didn't need to be kept safe and whole. The psychotic vampire wouldn't hesitate to play out his violent fantasies with her in whatever way he pleased.

_If I hadn't been such a goddamned coward, she'd be safe, _he thought angrily as the needle on the speedometer jumped ahead another five miles per hour. If he'd turned her on her birthday like she'd asked – _begged – _then at least the question of her survival would have been assured. He thought of Elena's horrified reaction to the way Landis had torn apart that woman three years ago. It had been overkill in the extreme, but Damon knew from experience that it had barely scratched the surface in regards to the depravity that lurked inside the vampire's twisted mind.

Bonnie cleared her throat and spoke in a strained voice from the backseat. "You need to take the next exit and turn left." Glancing into the rearview mirror, Damon took in the ashen pallor of her skin and the death grip she had on the edge of the seat. If there had been room in his brain for anything other than panic, he might have eased off of the accelerator a bit. Instead, he gave her a curt nod and looked toward the horizon where an overpass had appeared spanning the road.

They'd been driving for three hours and Damon's patience was wearing thin. He hadn't anticipated having to travel across the damn state, but the resort made sense given their only clues had been spawned from Bonnie's dreams.

At least, he hoped it did. At this point, he was praying that the stupid dream played into all of this, because if he got Elena back in one piece only to have _that _hanging over his head, he was going to completely lose it.

Fifteen minutes later, a sign for the resort appeared along the side of the road and within minutes they arrived at the turn off. The Camaro bounced along the rutted drive as the forest closed in on them from both sides. Just when Damon was beginning to suspect that the road led to nowhere and Bonnie had somehow fucked up the location spell, the road opened up into a large clearing. A collection of small cabins dotted the landscape, branching out from a central building marked by an intricately carved wooden sign that read _OFFICE _in bold letters.

"It looks exactly the same," Bonnie marveled, leaning forward to peer through the front windshield as Damon parked the car and killed the engine.

"And it's busy," Stefan murmured, eyeing the SUVs and motor homes parked in front of most of the cabins. "I was expecting more…Bate's Motel, not family vacation spot."

"Doesn't matter," Damon shrugged, climbing out of the car and surveying the vehicles. _Which one would Landis drive? _The vampire had plenty of quirks and was predictable in a lot of ways, but Damon didn't have a clue as to his taste in cars.

"What do you think?" Stefan asked, appearing quietly at his side as Bonnie climbed noisily out of the backseat. _Jesus, every vampire within three goddamn miles is going to hear her. _"Check with the front desk? See if they've seen him?"

"Waste of time," Damon said, turning his attention to the cabins, trying to discern from their exteriors what was going on inside. "Landis would have compelled them to forget that they'd seen him," he stated. Without looking, he called. "Hey, Bennett, which cabin is farthest away?"

"Um…there's one set back into the woods a ways, behind the office building," she said.

"That's where we start," he revealed, already heading in that direction. "Stay with the car."

"What? No!" Bonnie argued. "You said you needed a witch."

"I said I _might _need a witch," he clarified. "And I definitely don't need you clomping through the underbrush and ruining the element of surprise."

"But-."

"He's right Bonnie," Stefan said, once again playing peacemaker. "Just wait here. We'll text you if we need you."

The witch opened her mouth to protest, but wisely clamped it shut. Damon felt the weight of her gaze on his back as he and Stefan set off across the clearing. Despite the vehicles parked in front of nearly every cabin, the resort was quiet, seemingly deserted.

Shaking his head, Damon struggled to focus on rescuing Elena. _Just a few more minutes and it will be over_, he thought as he veered around the edge of the office building and immediately began scanning the trees for the cabin Bonnie had mentioned. The anemic hope he'd allowed himself since discovering Elena's kidnapping flared to life as he caught the flash of a bright red door through the thick foliage.

"Do you smell that?" Stefan murmured as they drew closer on silent feet. Tipping his chin toward the cabin, he added. "Blood."

Damon nodded. The sharp, metallic tang on the air was impossible to miss as he forced himself to approach slowly and carefully. Recognizing it, the ache in his chest grew with every step he took.

It wasblood.

Elena's blood.


	10. Approaching Zero

AN: SIW's plot was built around chapters 14, 15, & 16 - the scenes in the Savannah hotel were Damon and Elena did the blood exchange and ended up sleeping together. That was the initial plot bunny that grew into the monster ensemble fic that SIW became.

This chapter is the beginning of the initial plot bunny that DaCP has grown from. I kind of feel like we're about to get into the _real _story, so to say this chapter is important is a vast understatement.

Please keep in mind, especially during the second flashback, that SIW was an alternate S3 and I've taken Alaric on a different path than the show.

I cannot _wait _to read your comments. Seriously. Love it or hate it, let me know. Enjoy!

Chapter 10 - Approaching Zero

Stumbling through the underbrush in her bare feet, Elena struggled to keep up with Landis' brisk pace. Protruding roots and jagged rocks tore at her flesh, making her bleed, but the pain barely penetrated the haze of her compulsion. _Follow me, _her sadistic captor had ordered with a push of power behind his cold blue eyes before he'd slipped into the thick forest surrounding her prison.

For a brief, glorious moment, she'd hesitated, contemplating the notion of running in the opposite direction toward the long, low building only two hundred yards away. She'd had no idea where she was or whether what she'd find in that building would lead to her freedom, but _anything _would be better than Landis and his revenge.

The moment had passed, however, and in another instant she'd found herself running after him, disgusted by her own body's betrayal in its haste.

Catching the long hem of her dress on a fallen branch, Elena tripped and pitched forward, hitting the hard, uneven ground silently as the compulsion prevented her from crying out in pain. Tears burned behind her eyes as she curled her fingers into the dirt and rotted leaves blanketing the forest floor. For once, as the compulsion forced her mercilessly back to her feet without allowing her to catch her breath, she actually wished for Landis' rough manhandling.

_Why can't it just be over? Why can't I just die? _

The thought shocked her – not because it wasn't true, but because it had taken so long for it to drift to the surface of her consciousness. She'd had it – the desire for everything to simply end – more times than she'd been able to count during the tumultuous year and a half after her parents had died. Every time her family or one of her friends had suffered because some supernatural entity had tried to get to her, the guilt and sorrow had been devastating. Death had seemed like the only escape.

Until Damon had shown her another way to be free.

* * *

_Creeping out of Damon's bedroom, Elena slowly descended the stairs to the first floor of the Salvatore house. Every step made her wince, as the head wound she'd received during the werewolf confrontation throbbed, and she wondered if she had a concussion._

It can't be that serious, _she thought, quickly dismissing the idea. Damon wouldn't have left her in his room to fall asleep if he'd been worried. _

_No matter how mad he'd been at her. _

_The house was dark, the first faint light of dawn just beginning to peak through the windows, and Elena shivered as her feet hit the marble floor of the foyer. The sounds of a crackling fire pulled her toward the soft orange light spilling from the living room. Eager for the fire's promised warmth, she padded quietly over the marble floor only to hesitate in the doorway. _

_She wasn't sure if she was ready to face Damon. _

_She'd defied him before, of course, countless times during their struggles with the various entities that had been out for her blood, but this time had been different. _They _were different. He was no longer her boyfriend's brother harboring a not-so-secret love behind his biting wit and harsh criticism. She was no longer the girl torn between her heart and her head, wrestling with her feelings for two, distinctly different brothers. _

_She and Damon had finally figured it out - together - and now, for the first time she'd disappointed him as the man she loved. _

_That knowledge_ hurt.

Don't be a coward_, she chided herself, deliberately putting one foot in front of the other and entering the room. Her gaze was drawn to the shadows, searching them when she didn't immediately find Damon sprawled out on one of the couches or chairs, but she didn't find him, there either. The living room was empty. _

"_Damon?" she called weakly, barely raising her voice above a whisper. Relief warred with disappointment as she drew closer to the fire, rubbing her arms to ward off the chill that had spread through her body from the inside out. _

Where is he? _she wondered as the warmth of the flames failed to penetrate her skin. Glancing around the room, she noticed the neatly arranged crystal decanters of liquor on the makeshift bar and, hesitating briefly, made her way behind the couch, picking up one of the heavy glasses. _

_The fire flickered off of the bottles, illuminating the amber colored liquid inside. Elena frowned. _How does he know which is which? _she wondered, reaching for a bottle of something clear and removing the stopper. Sniffing at it to be sure it wasn't gin, she poured a generous helping of what she hoped was vodka into a tumbler. Vodka was safe. She knew she liked it. _

"_I wouldn't," Damon warned, suddenly at her side and making her jump. _

"_God. Damon," she stammered as alcohol sloshed over the edge of her glass and onto her fingers. "You scared me," she admonished gently, taking a step back to catch her breath. Her heart was hammering in her chest as she tried to catch his eye, but he was staring thoughtfully at the collection of expensive crystal. Swallowing, she glanced down at her glass and asked. "You wouldn't what?" _

"_Drink that," he said, gesturing toward her nearly full tumbler, but still avoiding her gaze. "I don't know why the Russians love it so much, it's not going to warm you up." _

"_Oh," she replied, fighting the urge to launch into another apology for nearly getting him killed as she contemplated the bottles. "What, um…what should I be drinking?" _

"_Nothing," he said, finally looking at her before adding with a completely straight face. "You're underage." _

_Her lips twitched, but the smile died as Damon maintained his inscrutable mask. Taking the drink from her fingers he eyed the nearly full glass. "Ambitious much?" he asked, raising a brow as he poured the contents back into the proper bottle. _

"_I can hold my liquor," she protested, earning her a derisive snort as he selected a different decanter. Pouring a ridiculously small amount into her glass, he pressed it back into her hand. _

"_What's this?"_

"_Brandy," he said as his hand lingered on the glass, his fingers brushing against hers. Elena's pulse quickened at the electrifying touch. They'd been together for months, but sometimes she still experienced a moment of surprise as she realized all over again that she didn't have to ignore what she felt for him. _

"_Damon," she whispered. _

"_Maybe you shouldn't," he murmured, shifting his gaze toward the lump on her forehead. Gently, but firmly gripping her chin, he peered at her with a detached interest that squeezed painfully around her heart. "You might have a concussion, be in shock or something." _

"_I'm fine," she insisted, raising a hand to cover his with her own, but he pulled his away before she could make contact. _

"_Whatever you say," he replied, stepping away from her as a cold, hard edge entered his voice. Elena watched him with a sinking heart, suddenly feeling even more ill at ease, as he poured himself a drink from a different decanter and walked away from her toward the opposite side of the room. _

_Something was wrong – very wrong. _

_She was no stranger to fighting with Damon. For a long time it had seemed that the wars of words designed to inflict maximum damage had been the only way they knew how to communicate. Their first interactions had always been an overwhelming mix of violence and passion, terrifying and intriguing her in equal measure, often sucking her in and pushing her to similar heights. She'd learned how to deal with his dizzying emotional extremes – relishing the challenge in a way that she knew couldn't be completely healthy. _

_Although, how did one define a healthy, normal relationship with a _vampire?

_Shaking her head, Elena took a sip of her brandy, grimacing as it burned down her throat, and tried to focus. She knew how to fight with a passionate, volatile Damon Salvatore. What she didn't know how to deal with was the cold, detached man standing next to her. A seed of doubt took root in her heart. _

What if I can't fix this?

"_Damon, will you talk to me?" Elena asked, wishing her voice didn't sound quite so desperate and weak. "Please? If you're still mad at me, _be _mad. Don't just…stand there like…like…"_

_Glancing at her from the corner of his eye, Damon asked. "Like what?"_

"_Like you don't care," she said, her voice breaking as her stomach twisted with nerves and nausea. "Like you don't_ feel _anything. I screwed up. I know this. Let's talk about it so I can apologize and we can move on." _

"_What's there to talk about?" he asked, shrugging as he took a sip of what she assumed was his usual bourbon before turning to face her. "You just did what you always do, Elena. You risked your life for your friends. You courted death to make sure everybody else lived. Never mind the fact that you're human and breakable and completely incapable of defending yourself." _

_Elena bristled, hating the implication that she was a liability – no matter how true his assessment was. "You say that like it's a bad thing."_

"_It is." _

"_What?" she demanded, eyes widening in shock as she stared at him. People were constantly risking their lives to keep her safe –_ Damon _being the worst repeat offender in her circle of family and friends – and now he was trying to say it was a bad thing for her to do the same? Seizing the spark of anger his words had inspired, she slammed her glass down on the bar and glared at him. "What the hell are you talking about? Do you know exactly how many people have died for me? Because I do. I remember each and every one of them and now you're trying to say that I don't have the right to do the same? That is bullshit, Damon." Growing angrier by the second as he continued to stare at her impassively, she stalked toward him, invading his personal space the way he loved to do to her, before crossing her arms and retorting. "Are you going to try and tell me you wouldn't die for me?" _

_Damon rolled his eyes without bothering to dignify the question with a response as he took another sip of his drink. _

_Suddenly furious at him for holding her up to such a high double standard, she snatched the glass from his hand and threw it toward the fireplace. The crystal shattered with a satisfying crash as she muttered. "You're such a hypocritical bas-."_

"_You know I'd die for you," he interrupted with a blessed hint of passion as he trapped her with his penetrating gaze. "I know you'd do the same for me. That's easy. You'd die for a bum on the street you'd never met. You have the most infuriating death wish I've ever seen in a human and _that _is saying something, believe me."_

"_Then what are we even fighting about?" she cried in exasperation, throwing her hands out toward her sides as she gazed at him helplessly. "Damon, please. We know each other, we understand each other. Why-?"_

"_Because I don't want you to die for me, Elena," he replied, taking her face between his hands and wiping away the tears she hadn't even realized had fallen. His touch was tender, but his eyes blazed with intensity. _

"_I don't understand," she admitted, placing her hands on his chest and curling her fingers into the fabric of his shirt. Her brief burst of passion had passed, leaving her an overly emotional wreck with a pounding headache. "What do you want from me?"_

"_I just…" His expression finally softened and he allowed her to see beyond his indifference to the residual frustration and fear that stemmed from his love for her. Wrapping an arm around her waist, he pulled her close and kissed her forehead before murmuring into her ear. "I want you to live."_

* * *

The trees had grown thicker, the branches lower, slapping at Elena's face and arms as she held them up to protect herself. Outwardly, her body continued to obey Landis' compulsion, struggling to keep up with his punishing pace as she followed him through the forest. Inwardly, however, she was back in that living room, reliving the fight that had changed and redefined her relationship with Damon yet again.

Elena had never considered herself special. She'd never believed that the accident of her doppelganger blood had been reason enough to justify the trail of broken bodies that had fallen at her feet, and eventually she'd decided that she must have been living on borrowed time. Death had already claimed her, had been after her since the night her parents' car had crashed through the wooden guard rails on Wickery Bridge. Every time she'd cheated it, Death had simply taken someone else in her place. Letting Death get its way had been the only answer she'd been able to find to save what had been left of her family and friends.

Falling in love with Damon had changed all of that.

Damon wanted her to _want _to live, to value it and hold it as sacred – the same way he did. Not every life, of course - this was still _Damon, _after all_ - _but hers, specifically. He needed her to fight as hard to stay alive for the people she loved as she'd once fought for the right to die for them. Because death waseasy. Anybody could die for love or a cause and pass on to the next world with a sense of peace over a good deed done. Life, as Damon had explained it, was the hard part, especially when every day held nothing but the promise of longing and pain.

Resolving the fight hadn't been easy. It had taken her a long time to understand exactly what Damon had been asking of her - even longer to shift her thinking and act on it - but in the end she'd figured it out.

He needed her to quit acting like she was living on borrowed time.

It hadn't happened overnight, but looking back, Elena realized that that particular fight had been the catalyst that had helped her to move on. She'd started making plans and revisiting old dreams. Graduating from high school and getting out of Mystic Falls – goals she'd all but given up on while Klaus had been out for her blood – suddenly seemed possible. She'd brushed the dust off of the college brochures that Jenna – and then Alaric – had stubbornly been collecting for her and started pouring over them. The stories Damon had told her about the exotic places he'd been to no longer seemed out of her reach and she'd fantasized about semesters in London and summer internships in Paris.

She'd started writing again.

Mostly, she'd quit fighting Damon tooth and nail every time his over-protectiveness had threatened to smother her and had tried to look at it from his perspective. She _was _human. She _was _breakable and every time she'd stupidly put her own life on the line, she'd inevitably risked his as well.

And that knowledge, that _knowing_that Damon would risk anything for her-that he would _die__for her-_had been the final piece that made everything else fit together.

Damon couldn't die…and therefore…neither could she.

_You don't want to die, _she chided herself as the trees and underbrush began to thin. Gasping for breath, she followed Landis into a small clearing. This was her first real test. After the incident with Jules' pack, there really hadn't been another dangerous plight for her to tumble into. Life had been quiet and _wanting _to live had been easy.

Damon had made it easy.

_He's going to find me, _she thought as Landis came to a stop in the middle of the clearing and she collapsed to her hands and knees in exhaustion. The hem of her dress was caked with mud, bleeding all of the way up to her knees. Dark blood stains stood out against the white in sharp relief. Her feet ached and her palms where cut and bruised from pushing her way through the dense trees. Her skin was flushed and hot and her head ached, but she ignored all of that. None of it mattered.

Damon was going to find her - and Elena was going to make damn sure she was alive when he did.

"Lovely, isn't it," Landis mused, casually putting his hands in his pockets as he strolled toward the opposite side of the clearing. Propelled by compulsion, she rolled her eyes as she scrambled dutifully to her feet and shadowed him.

"It's better than the trees," she muttered, eyeing his impeccable, old-fashioned suit with annoyance. _Why isn't _he _covered in mud? _

"This is my favorite part," he said with all of the glee she'd expect from a five year old on Christmas morning as he picked up the pace for a few more yards before coming to an abrupt stop at the farthest edge of the clearing. "Amazing, isn't it?"

Elena's stomach dropped as she stopped as well and realized that the clearing hadn't come to an end because of the encroaching trees - it had stopped because of a sheer cliff.

"It's certainly not the tallest I've ever seen," Landis said as if he were narrating some sort of wilderness tour. "But the rocks at the bottom are a very nice touch, don't you think? Perfect for what I have planned."

Suddenly, Elena's promise to herself to live felt more like a desperate wish as she peered over the edge. The setting sun cast deep shadows on the ground far below. She'd never been good at judging distances and with the blood loss she'd suffered along with the confusing compulsion, all she knew for certain was that if she went over the edge, that was it. She was dead.

"W-What is your plan?" she asked, unable to tear her gaze away from the crumbling edge of the cliff. Swallowing her rising panic, she wished Landis would step away before vertigo outweighed compulsion and she fell into the abyss.

"I told you," he said lightly. "Revenge. But if you must know specifics…"

Suddenly, he was standing right next to her, one hand gripping her upper arm as he dragged her closer to the sheer drop off. Elena gasped, squeezing her eyes shut as she clutched at him with both hands.

"Please," she whimpered as she danced on her toes, fighting for purchase on the loose dirt and grass.

"Eventually, when I tire of our games, I'll let Damon know where we are," he explained, keeping his voice conversational as he thrust his arm out and used his supernatural strength to hold her out over the vast, open space. The hem of her dress fluttered in the breeze as a cry of terror escaped her throat, defying the compulsion. Involuntarily, she kicked her feet, clinging to her captor with all of the strength she could muster. "This is, after all, for his benefit."

Opening her eyes, Elena automatically looked down, her gaze drawn to the jagged rocks below. She couldn't breathe, couldn't think around the paralyzing fear surging through her veins.

Abruptly, Landis pulled her back in, holding onto her as she sagged against him, all weak limbs and ragged breaths. For once she was grateful for his possessive embrace as her shoulders shook in silent sobs. Chuckling with sadistic glee, he said. "I can't wait for Damon to get here."

* * *

Elena wasn't there.

Damon sagged against the doorframe of the empty cabin, disappointment cutting through him like a knife as his feeble hopes were dashed. He hadn't even realized he'd been harboring them, but at some point during the long drive from Mystic Falls, that fucking disease had risen up, placing a stranglehold on his heart.

Elena's absence wasn't Damon's only cause for concern, however. The room was soaked in blood - the rumpled sheets, the walls, the old worn carpet - making it look like a scene out of a bad slasher flick.

But this wasn't the movies and the blood wasn't fake – it was real and human and _Elena's._

He tried not to let his brain make the mental calculations, tried not to weigh the magnitude of blood against the amount found in the human body, tried not to jump to the unbearable conclusion that Elena had lost too much to survive…

Failure swept through him, stealing his breath and rendering his mind blank save for one excruciating thought.

_What the hell am I going to do without her?_

* * *

_Leaving the late afternoon sunshine behind, Damon followed Alaric through the doorway of a rundown bar on the outskirts of Mystic Falls. Neon signs hung from the windows and behind the counter while a fifty-year-old jukebox rattled out a Bob Seger tune from tinny hidden speakers. The place looked new in the sense that it had all of the modern conveniences necessary to legally operate in the state of Virginia, but Damon knew better. Although the original structure had accidentally burned down in the late 1880s – and been purposely set on fire during Prohibition – a bar had existed on the spot in some capacity or another for longer than he'd been alive. _

_At the moment it was known as _The Bleeding Wolf _– a name that he found endlessly amusing – and it was Alaric's new favorite drinking hole._

"_I'd forgotten about this place," Damon said as they each claimed a stool at the end of the bar facing the door. "We should bring Lockwood here sometime." _

_Alaric chuckled, shaking his head as he signaled for the bartender. "You know, the reason I like this bar is because my students don't come here. If I wanted them to know what a pathetic loser I really am, I'd keep going to The Grill." _

"_It's cute that you think you've kept that a secret from them," Damon quipped, ordering a beer from the incredibly bored looking bartender. _

_They drank in silence for awhile as Damon watched the post-work happy hour crowd filter in and contemplated Alaric's invitation. It was hardly unusual for them to meet up for a drink – or five – after the teacher had finished up at the high school, but he knew that this time, something was different. Alaric was sipping his beer, nursing it with an air of restraint that he usually reserved for finals time, and there was a strange tension between them. _

_Something was most definitely up._

"_What's on your mind, Ric?" Damon asked after they'd ordered the second round – bourbon this time. A preemptive strike against whatever his friend was waiting to drop on him. _

"_What makes you think something's on my mind?"_

"_Vampire's intuition," he replied dryly. Gesturing toward his friend's light beer, he added. "And you only drink that watered down shit when you think you need to stay moderately sober."_

_Alaric scowled, looking at the bottle in his hand as if it had somehow betrayed him. "You're really annoying, you know that?"_

"_Yup," he nodded, taking a sip of the top shelf liquor. "Now talk."_

"_Fine," the other man grumbled, twisting in his seat to face Damon more fully. "Elena told me about Atlanta."_

_Damon frowned. "I didn't know it was a secret."_

"_It isn't," Alaric stated as he began picking at the label on the dark brown bottle. "Not the part about Elena going to Emory, anyway. The fact that the two of you plan on living together…_that _I hadn't thought about."_

_Damon groaned internally. _You've got to be fucking kidding me._ Alaric wanted to have this conversation_ now_? He'd been with Elena for nearly a year – practically joined at the hip as Caroline liked to point out. They'd spent most of their days – and the vast majority of their nights – in each other's company and as Elena's comforting but unnecessary pseudo-guardian, Alaric hadn't said a goddamn thing. _

_Until now, apparently._

_Annoyed and at a loss for words, Damon let the silence build uncomfortably as he continued sipping his drink. Alaric's gaze darted his way a few times before he sighed and prodded. "Damon."_

"_What?"_

"_Aren't you going to say something?"_

Like hell_, he thought. If Alaric wanted to have this discussion, he could damn well get there on his own. "I didn't hear a question," he replied. "I mean, is this where you lecture me on the perils of living in sin?"_

_Alaric sighed. "Damon-."_

"_Because I hate to break it to you, but it's a little late to be worrying about my virtue," he continued airily, smirking as his friend groaned and covered his face with his hand. "I'm pretty sure my immortal soul is beyond help."_

"_You got that right," Alaric muttered, quickly chugging what remained of his beer and ordering another. "Look. This has nothing to do with…_that_._"

"_Well, thank god," he replied with exaggerated relief. "I'd hate for you to blame me for robbing Elena of her innocence since it's one of the few morally bankrupt things I haven't done." _

_Alaric sighed, taking another long pull from his beer bottle. "Can we move on?" _

"_That depends," he replied. "Are you going to tell me that Elena and I shouldn't live together in Atlanta?"_

"_Not exactly," Alaric hedged, meeting Damon's sideways glance without flinching. "I'm not Elena's father. I'm not going to try to tell her what to do."_

"_Good."_

"_And I'm definitely not going to tell _you _what to do since all past attempts have led to me having a broken neck-."_

"Once_," Damon retorted defensively. "I killed you once."_

"_But I'm going to tell you something that I know you won't want to hear," he pushed on, ignoring all of Damon's attempts to derail the conversation. "So just listen, okay? And understand that I still consider you my best friend." _

_Damon tensed as every instinct he had told him to run out of the bar before Alaric could utter another word. Ignoring them, he drew a deep breath. "Okay."_

"_Elena's happy. Really happy," Alaric began, staring at the surface of the bar rather than meeting Damon's eye. "You're actually really good for her."_

"_I love how you say that like it's a shock," Damon muttered, even though that fact still surprised the hell out of him every goddamn day._

"_She loves you. It's obvious," the teacher continued as if he hadn't spoken. "And I know this Atlanta thing isn't some whim that she hasn't thought through." _

"But_," Damon supplied as he ordered another bourbon, suddenly wanting to get very drunk, very fast. "Get to the point, Ric."_

"_The point is, she's eighteen, Damon," Alaric said, finally meeting his friend's eye. "Yeah, okay, so she's probably the toughest, most world-weary and mature eighteen-year-old in history, but she's still only eighteen. It's been quiet since that fight with Jules' pack and hopefully it will stay that way. She's going to college, going to put Mystic Falls and all of this doppelganger bullshit in her rearview. She's got a chance, at a long life, man. A normal, _human life._" _

_Damon braced his elbows against the bar as all of the air left his lungs. Alaric wasn't telling him anything he hadn't thought of himself, but hearing someone else say it made his heart constrict painfully in his chest. "And you think she can't do that with me." _

"_I didn't say that," Alaric said, looking at him with a sadness that implied it was_ exactly _what he meant. "Like I said, I'm not telling you what to do. Elena would hate me if she knew we were having this conversation, but I know you love her and I know you want what's best for her. All I'm saying is that maybe…maybe what's best for her is to end things now, so she can go to college and start a life without vampires, before either of you get in too deep."_

_Damon snorted as the bartender placed another bourbon in front of him. He was already in too deep. They both were. If Elena wanted out, there would be no easy way to do it. He'd try to be the better man, the one she managed to bring out in him, but he couldn't promise his best behavior to anybody. _

_Not without her. _

_Tempted to knock back the bourbon and blur away, leaving Alaric with the tab and a caustic 'fuck you' before he disappeared, Damon hesitated. His friend's concern for Elena wasn't without merit and he'd be lying if he said he'd never had doubts about her chance at happiness if she was stuck with him. What the hell did he have to offer her, really? She'd already brought up the idea of turning and forever. The longer they stayed together, the deeper he'd pull her into the darkness of his world, no matter how quiet things stayed. _

"_Thanks for the pep talk," Damon muttered, finally picking up his bourbon and taking a sip. From the corner of his eye, he caught Alaric's expression of surprise and confusion before he returned to his beer. They drank in silence for another hour before Damon acted on his previous impulse, threw some cash on the bar, and left._

_Without the 'fuck you.'_

* * *

Damon couldn't look away from the blood.

For one hundred and fifty years, blood had been the center of his universe and he'd thought himself immune to the human reaction of revulsion or fear upon seeing too much of it.

He'd been wrong.

Paralyzed, he stood in the doorway as the sight and smell of the cabin became imprinted on his memory. If he lived to be one thousand, he'd never get the image out of his mind. Every time he fed from here into eternity, the warm, rich substance would throw him back into this moment and he'd be forced to relive his failure.

_I'm sorry, Elena, _he despaired. _I'm so sorry. _

"It's still warm," Stefan announced.

Damon blinked, slowly, as if his eyelids weighed a ton.

"Did you hear me?" Stefan demanded, looking at him sharply. He was standing at the foot of the bed, one hand placed flat against the mattress, completely unmoved by the sight of Elena's blood spilled all over every surface.

"I-."

"It's still warm," he repeated, straightening as he glanced around the room. "The bed. We didn't miss them by much. Let's go."

"What?" Damon asked stupidly, hearing his brother's words, but failing to comprehend as he slowly began to slide down the doorframe. Stefan was there before he hit the ground, hauling him up by the open flaps of his leather jacket.

"Focus, Damon," he commanded, dragging him out of the doorway and shoving him roughly against the side of the cabin.

"Jesus, Stefan, did you see that?" Damon asked, finally able to speak now that he wasn't staring at the physical evidence of his failure. "There's so much blood. Elena-."

"Needs you right now," Stefan interrupted, staring him in the eye. "She has to be close and…you're right. She's lost a lot of blood, so she probably didn't leave on her own. If you want to get her back, if you want to make Landis pay, you've got to get it together, okay?"

Closing his eyes, Damon dropped his chin to his chest and tried to ignore the thick scent of blood in the air. Stefan was right. Elena didn't stand a chance if he fell apart now. There would be time later – when Elena was home and safe – for him to drink away the image of the cabin splattered in her blood.

"Okay," he muttered, nodding his head as he opened his eyes. Shaking off Stefan's grip on his shoulders, he pushed away from the cabin and took a few steps toward the thick forest surrounding the resort. Drawing a deep breath, he said. "I'm going to go after Elena. You get Bonnie and then follow me, but don't get too close. Landis will be able to hear her coming a mile away."

"Why don't you take another minute," Stefan suggested. "I'll start after Elena and you can get-."

"No," he shook his head, searching the ground for traces of blood. There was no way he could find her by scent so close to the cabin. "No one knows Elena better than I do. I'll find her faster. Just bring Bonnie."

Hesitating, Stefan stared at him, clearly at war with Damon's wishes and his better judgment. Damon looked back evenly, divorcing his conscious mind from the useless fear and panic.

"I can still kick your ass," he reminded his brother. "Don't think I won't."

Stefan scoffed, rolling his eyes as the corners of his mouth lifted in the barest hint of a smile. Finally, he started backing away in the direction of the car. "We'll be right behind you."

Nodding, Damon turned toward the blood trail, following it into the trees. He moved carefully at first, visually confirming the sporadic smears of Elena's blood on low-hanging branches, the bark of a tree or a pile of broken twigs on the ground. Occasionally, he came across a clear, bare footprint perfectly outlined in a patch of mud - each time he found one, he felt a greater sense of relief.

Elena was alive and moving on her own.

The overpowering stench of blood lessened as he put more distance between himself and the cabin and within minutes he was tracking her by scent alone. Ignoring the shifting shadows as the sun sank towards the horizon, he relied on instinct, slipping into the mode of hunter with incredible ease.

He was so focused on following the trail that he almost stumbled into the clearing without pausing to assess the situation. If Elena's voice hadn't carried through the darkening woods, he might have tripped over them.

"You've made your point, Landis," she said as Damon grabbed at the trunk of a thick oak tree to keep from collapsing to his knees at the sound of her voice. A very big part of him had started to wonder if he'd ever hear it again. "I believe you, okay? You win. I'm completely terrified. Can we go back to the cabin, please?"

Damon closed his eyes and leaned his forehead against the rough bark as a crushing helplessness made its way past his defenses. She sounded terrified and as desperate as he felt. It took all of his meager self-control not to charge into the clearing and carry her away to safety.

_Focus, Salvatore. If you fuck this up, you really will lose her for good. _

Drawing a calming breath, he lifted his head, peering around the massive tree trunk and into the clearing where he tried to assess the situation with a detached and clinical eye. He saw Landis first, standing at the far edge of the clearing with his back toward him.

"Eager to pick up where we left off, are you?" Landis asked suggestively, making Damon's stomach twist with revulsion. Narrowing his eyes, he scanned the edge of the clearing for Elena. For one frantic moment he didn't see her, fearing he'd hallucinated her voice in his desire to save her.

Then Landis turned and there she was.

Wrapped in the monster's arms, she looked like a broken doll, all bloodied limbs and ruined white fabric. Damon dug his fingers into the rough bark as he again fought the impulse to rush in without thinking. He was fast, but so was Landis, and the other vampire could kill her before he made it half way across the clearing.

"I don't...I don't really care," she admitted, letting her head rest weakly against his shoulder as she put up no effort to fight her way out of his grasp. "I just don't want to be here."

_How do I do this?_ he wondered, looking around the woods for an answer. A stake was the obvious choice, but the ground was annoyingly lacking in any broken branches substantial enough to do the job and if he tried to break one off of a tree, he'd blow his cover.

A quick burst of pain exploded behind his eyelids, there and gone in less than a second, but it was enough for Damon to realize that he was no longer alone. Glancing over his shoulder, he found Stefan and Bonnie nearly a dozen yards away, hiding behind a tree similar to his own. Frowning in irritation, he gave the witch a look that had her holding up her hands and mouthing 'sorry'. Behind her, Stefan shrugged as if to say 'what now?'

Pursing his lips, Damon held out his hands, shaking his head helplessly.

Bonnie and Stefan's faces fell in an almost comical unison before the witch's eyes lit up. Pointing toward the clearing, she pantomimed sending Landis a magical migraine. Damon started. It was actually a brilliant plan.

Could it really be that easy?

Looking back into the clearing, his heart sank. _Of course it fucking couldn't. _The sun had dropped further during the silent exchange and Damon noticed something that the long grass had kept hidden.

The clearing ended in a cliff and Landis was holding Elena less than two feet from the edge.

_Fuck. _

Eyes wide, he turned back to Bonnie and shook his head vehemently, pointing toward the oblivious pair. Her face fell, taking on an ashen pallor as she immediately understood. If she were to hit Landis with one of her patented brain whammies, chances were way too likely he'd let go of Elena. In her current state, Damon wasn't sure she'd be able to stand on her own and the edge was just too close.

"Very well," Landis said, brushing Elena's disheveled hair away from her face as she cringed and struggled weakly in his grasp. "We'll say goodbye to this place until Damon arrives."

_To hell with it, _Damon thought, taking a breath and stepping out from behind the tree. "Why wait?"

Whirling in surprise, Landis clutched his prize tightly to his body, taking a step closer to the edge of the cliff. Elena gasped, staring at Damon for several seconds before sagging in her captor's arms and breathing a sigh of relief.

"Damon," she murmured in a weak, tear-filled voice that broke his heart. "I knew you'd find me."

"Sorry it took so long," he said before hardening his gaze and turning his attention to the vampire. Landis had recovered from his initial shock and was now looking at him with a mixture of hatred and glee. Adrenaline surged through Damon's veins as he wracked his brain for a plan. "Let her go, Landis."

"Why?" he asked. "Will you let me live?"

"No," Damon replied. "But I might make your death quicker."

Landis pretended to contemplate his offer. "Hmmm…not much incentive there," he replied. "Especially considering we've just arrived at the main act. Everything up until now has all been a preview."

"What do you want, Landis?" Damon demanded, trying not to let his anxiety show as the vampire took another step backward. "You wanted to know what I'd do to get her back, well the answer is anything. So, name it and let's get on with it."

Landis smiled. "What I wanted was another couple of days to play with Elena. You ruined my timetable, Damon." The vampire grinned, nuzzling his face into Elena's hair as she squirmed in his arms to get free. "Although, I have to admit, I've started to see the appeal of this one."

"Landis," Damon warned, his temper flaring at the possessive way the monster was touching her.

"But I am nothing if not flexible," he continued, shifting his grip on Elena and holding her away from his body by the upper arms, almost in offering. "You love her. Not as a toy or a favorite blood source. You really, truly love her as an equal. A _human_," he added in disgust. "That's pathetic."

"Damon," Elena murmured, wincing as Landis' hold on her tightened to the point of pain.

The vampire smiled, his gaze hardening as his eyes grew cold. "What I want, Damon Salvatore, is for you to suffer. It'll begin with this."

Damon's eyes widened as he suddenly understood. Forgetting Landis, forgetting _everything, _he moved, blurring across the clearing and diving for Elena at the same instant that the other vampire tossed her over the edge of the cliff. His laughter echoed in Damon's ears.

It wasn't until she was hurtling through the air, falling towards the rocks below, that he knew he was going to be too late.


	11. No One Lives Forever

_AN: Holy...Wow. The reponse to Chapter 10 was unbelievable. I'm SO thrilled and relieved that you're all still with me and enjoying this fic even as I put you through the ringer with DE. I have to apologize for taking over a week to update. That wasn't my intention after posting chapter 10 and leaving you with that literal cliffhanger, but this chapter (and chapter 12) is just as huge as chapter 10 and I needed it to be perfect. Falling short is simply not an option at this stage in the game. _

_My beta is amazing and because of her, I think this chapter lives up to 10's hype. I can't wait to hear your thoughts. Enjoy!_

Chapter Eleven – No One Lives Forever

Damon hit the rocks at the bottom of the cliff with a bone-breaking thud, shattering several of his ribs as well as his right leg and arm. Blackness crept in around the edges of his vision as pain consumed him, threatening him with unconsciousness and momentarily obliterating all other thought. He lost precious seconds before his body began to heal, intensifying his agony.

Pushing through it, he groaned as he rolled onto his stomach, searching frantically for Elena. He had to find her. The fall had been long – enough to kill any human – but she was strong and she'd already survived so much. She'd survived vampires, werewolves, Originals, her own death wish…living with _him. _This…this was _nothing._ It had been six days since their last blood exchange, but if he could just _get _to her he could give her his blood again and she'd be okay.

He'd be okay.

Damon's gaze swept the surrounding area as he felt his ribs knitting back together, his eyes finally coming to rest on her still form just a few feet away. The rocks scraped him, cutting his skin and drawing blood as he crawled to her. Elena's face was turned away, one arm pinned awkwardly beneath her body and the other splayed out over the rocks at an odd angle like her legs. The white fabric of her dress nearly glowed in the deepening shadows.

She wasn't breathing.

"Elena," he murmured, making it to her side after what felt like an eternity. Roughly, he grabbed her chin, forgetting to be gentle in the face of his panic, and bit into his wrist. Ignoring the blood trickling from her mouth and her open and empty gaze, he pressed the open wound to her lips and willed his vampire blood to do its work.

"Come on, Elena," he urged, tenderly smoothing her disheveled hair away from her forehead. The bite began to heal too quickly, before Elena could begin to draw blood from his open vein. Snatching his hand away with a growl of frustration, he bit savagely into his newly healed skin, tearing the flesh open as he slipped his hand behind her neck. Lifting her head from the ground, he pressed his wrist to her mouth once more, hard enough to feel the sharp edges of her teeth. Closing his eyes, he begged. "Please, Elena, _drink_."

"Landis is gone," Stefan announced from somewhere behind Damon where the rocks gave way to smooth ground. Absently, he wondered how and when his brother had arrived at the bottom of the cliff, his whole being focused on getting Elena to drink the blood that he _knew _would save her life. She just needed a little more. "He blurred out of here the second you and Elena went over the side. I was going to go after him but Bonnie…Oh, god..." Crouching at Damon's side, Stefan stared in horror at the human girl's broken body. "Elena."

"She's going to be fine," Damon said harshly, even as his wrist healed again and his blood ran from either side of her mouth in twin trails, dripping onto the rocks below. "Come on, Elena, don't do this to me," he ordered desperately, his brain stubbornly clinging to the hope that she just needed a little more. A few more drops.

The beautiful brown eyes that he knew so well stared at him lifelessly.

Something inside of him broke…shattered.

Savagely shoving aside the gnawing certainty that he'd been too late, he defiantly continued to hold his wrist to her lips.

"Elena, no!" Bonnie cried, falling to her knees on the other side of her fallen friend and taking her hand. Ignoring her, Damon took his wrist away from Elena's mouth, wiping away the blood smeared on her lips and chin with his thumbs. Choking on a sob, she looked at Damon with tear-filled eyes. "She's not breathing."

"I know that," he snapped, slipping an arm beneath her shoulders and another below her knees to gather her into his arms. The rocks were sharp, uncomfortable, and he needed to get her off of them. Elena's bare back was slick with blood and as he lifted her from the rocks, more of it glistened off of their jagged surfaces. The scent of her blood overwhelmed him, making it impossible to think of anything else as he slipped and slid over the rocks. She lay in his arms like a rag doll, boneless and limp, as he carried her toward a patch of grass near the trees. Laying her in the shelter of a tall oak, he took her hand, lacing his fingers through hers as he searched her face for a sign that he hadn't lost her.

"Elena, please," he begged, caressing her cheek and willing life back into her empty gaze. The broken part of him began to spread, creeping outward from the center of his chest and leaving him numb. Bringing her hand to his lips, he kissed her bruised knuckles and squeezed her fingers hard enough to make any human wince in pain.

Nothing.

"Don't," he whispered, as the crushing knowledge that she was gone – truly gone – finally manifested into coherent thought in his brain. Sweeping his thumb over her tear-stained cheek, his voice cracked as he pleaded. "Don't leave me, Elena."

Bonnie and Stefan arrived at his side once again. This time it was his brother who reached for the broken girl, gingerly placing two fingers on the pulse point below her jaw. Ignoring the voice that called the gesture pointless –he would have _heard _Elena's heartbeat if it were there – the last part of him that remembered how to hope waited.

The seconds ticked by slowly, interminably, until a minute had passed. Then two. After five, Stefan curled his fingers into a fist, lifting his defeated gaze as he swallowed and said quietly. "She's gone, Damon."

Damon stared back at him as the words echoed in the deathly stillness of the night, bouncing ineffectually off of his numb shell.

"No."

* * *

_Damon pulled a T-shirt over his head as he made his way down the hallway and into the kitchen where the scent of coffee and the promise of blood beckoned him. Elena was already there – as he knew she would be – perched on a stool by the counter in her pajamas, sipping coffee from a mug the size of a soup bowl and eating dry Frosted Flakes from the box. Keeping her nose buried in the first edition copy of_ A Tale of Two Cities_ that she'd swiped from his collection, she didn't even look up as he entered the room. _

I hate finals_, he grumbled internally as he noisily retrieved a mug from the cupboard directly above her head and decided on coffee first. The only time Elena ever beat him out of bed on a Saturday morning was during midterms and finals. She'd spend the day with her nose buried in a book, ignoring him as she took over the living room or kitchen with her various study materials. Lounging around all day in her pajamas, she'd unknowingly drive him nuts in her ridiculously short shorts and tiny little camis that left miles of bare skin exposed to tease him. _

_It also happened to be the only time that Elena's willpower overruled his skill at seduction and he was forced to take a backseat to a bunch of dead English guys._

_Sipping his coffee, he stood next to her and watched her, wondering how long it would take before she tore her attention away from Dickens' version of the French Revolution and acknowledged his presence. He knew that he was acting like an ornery and petulant child, but he didn't care, continuing to stare crossly at the back of her head as she munched contentedly on her cereal. And ignored him. This is why they were in Atlanta, so that Elena could go to college and do the whole normal, human thing that she'd nearly given up on. He was glad that they were there, glad that she was able to follow a dream and all that bullshit, but he missed her – especially since she'd stopped letting him help her study, claiming he was 'too much of a distraction'. _

Jesus, I need a hobby_, he thought with a sigh as he finished his coffee and, giving up on his one-sided staring contest, made his way to the refrigerator. Setting his empty mug on the counter, he opened the door, pushing aside a couple of cans of soda to grab a blood bag. Straightening up, he was about to shut the door when he paused, his attention focused on the contents of the fridge. _

_Elena had gone grocery shopping after class the day before, stocking the kitchen with fresh fruit and vegetables, sugary cereal and diet soda. She had a tendency to shove food onto the shelves without rhyme or reason and this time _her_ Diet Coke was wedged onto the top shelf next to _his_ O positive. It probably wasn't the first time it had happened, nor would it be the last, but it was definitely the first time Damon had noticed. _

_Back in Mystic Falls, he'd kept his cache of blood bags stashed in the ancient freezer one of his relatives had installed in the '70s. Not hidden exactly, but certainly not mixed in with the scant amount of human food that had been kept on hand. He'd meant to get something similar for the apartment after they had moved in, but for one reason or another, had kept putting it off. Elena had never said anything and eventually he'd forgotten about it. _

_Until today._

_Forgetting his thirst, he stared in wonder at the plastic containers of medically bagged blood and the shiny, metallic cans of diet soda. It was so…_domestic_, so normal, the way his and Elena's worlds had melded together – her human food and his human blood, sharing a shelf in the refrigerator as if it were no big deal. As if the fact that she had chosen to be with him - to _love_ him - despite the fact that his kind was the predator and hers the prey, wasn't a goddamn miracle. _

_When the hell had this become his life?_

"_You're going to let all of the cold air out," Elena said suddenly around a mouthful of Frosted Flakes. _

"_Huh?" Damon blinked, automatically looking at her over the open door, his brain was still stuck on the contents of the fridge._

"_You're holding the door open," she said, looking up from her book and rolling her eyes at his, no doubt, dumbfounded expression. Shaking her head, she smiled. "Nevermind. It's just something my mom used to say when Jeremy or I couldn't decide what we wanted to eat."_

"_Oh," he said stupidly as she returned to her book and he let the door swing shut. He watched her for a few minutes, noting the way she absently licked the sugar from her fingers after every bite of her cereal, before he turned away. _

_Mechanically, he set the blood bag on the counter before taking his mug to the sink to rinse it out. Cold blood sufficed in a pinch, but he preferred it warmed up - it tasted better, more like the real stuff, fresh from the vein. Pouring the contents of the blood bag into his coffee mug, he put it in the microwave and pressed a few buttons. Seconds later, the rich metallic scent of blood began to permeate the kitchen. _

_He glanced at Elena - she didn't even look up from her book._

_A series of revelations struck him at once - the longing ache he used to feel when she kissed him goodbye and walked out of a room was gone. He no longer felt the need to commit every second they spent with each other to memory, in case it was the last one they shared. When she turned to him in the night and curled into his side, he no longer wondered when she was going to wise up and leave him._

She's staying,_ he suddenly realized, putting into words something he'd felt for a long time, but hadn't been able to articulate._ She's always going to come back.

_The microwave beeped and he retrieved the warmed blood like a man in a dream. Taking a drink, he savored the taste as he continued to stare at her, completely dumbstruck. During the course of simply living their lives, he'd missed his own metamorphosis. He'd gone from cherishing every moment out of fear that it might be his last to nearly taking them for granted in their familiarity. _

_Elena knew him – _all _of him – and she wasn't going anywhere. She belonged to him as much as he belonged to her._

_Finishing the blood, he set the mug in the sink and determinedly made his way around the corner to her side. Dickens be damned, he wasn't letting _this_ moment slip away._

"_Hey," she protested, as he tugged the book from her grasp and snapped it shut. Setting it aside, he took her face between his hands and ignored her continued protests. "Damon, I need to finish th-."_

_The rest of her words were lost as his mouth descended upon hers and in seconds she was moaning softly as she kissed him back. She tasted sweet, like the cereal she'd been eating and he knew she could taste the metallic tang of the blood he'd consumed, but it didn't matter. She didn't care. She loved him no matter what and he finally, _finally_ believed it._

_Her knees parted, allowing him closer as he buried his fingers in her hair and continued his exploration of her mouth with his lips and tongue. She returned the kiss with equal passion, running her palms over his chest and up around his shoulders. _

"_What was that for?" she gasped when he finally remembered that she was human and occasionally needed oxygen._

"_Nothing," he said, resting his forehead against hers and closing his eyes. _Everything_, he added to himself._ For loving me as much as I love you._ He couldn't believe it had taken a freaking can of Diet Coke to clue him in, but whatever the reason, he'd needed to let her know. Brushing her lips with another kiss, he trailed his hands down her bare arms as he started to back away. "I'll leave you alone so you can study."_

"_No, wait," Elena replied, trapping him between her legs before he could retreat more than a step. Damon raised a brow, placing his hands on her thighs and luxuriating in all of that bare skin as he noted the desire in her eyes and her kiss-swollen lips with a hint of pride. Perhaps her willpower wasn't as strong as he'd thought. Her gaze dropped to his mouth as she shrugged. "Dickens isn't going anywhere. I was actually thinking about taking a break and jumping in the shower."_

"_Really?" he replied, slipping his fingers beneath the edge of her shorts. _

"_Yes, really," she returned defiantly, slowly hooking her legs around his waist as she managed to bring them even closer together. "You want to join me?"_

* * *

Fresh tears ran down Bonnie's cheeks as she knelt on the ground next to Damon and listened to Stefan utter the damning words.

_She's gone. _

Elena was gone. Dead.

No.

She squeezed her eyes shut, unable to breathe around her aching heart. She couldn't believe it – wouldn't believe it. How could Elena be gone? How could she be dead? They'd been best friends since kindergarten, confiding in each other over all of the important stuff – sleepovers, boyfriends, bad grades and heartbreaks. Their friendship had survived vampires, werewolves, and distance when they'd gone their separate ways after high school. They'd faced death so many times and _lived _it was incomprehensible to her that _this _time, her best friend hadn't made it. Elena _always _survived.

Blinking through her tears, Bonnie looked at her friend and felt her defiant hope dissolve into bitter reality. Elena's wide, vacant eyes stared at her, devoid of emotion, of _life._ Damon's blood wouldn't save her now – nothing would. He'd been too late.

They'd all been too goddamn late.

"Do something," Damon demanded, his voice raw and rough as he clung to Elena's hand, but Bonnie didn't hear him.

"Why didn't you wait?" she wondered, unable to look away from Elena's body as she recalled the scene she and Stefan had stumbled upon. "Landis said he was going to take Elena back to the cabin. You could have…why didn't you…"

"_Bonnie,_" he said harshly, yanking her from her stupor as he repeated. "Do. Something."

"What?"

"You brought back Jeremy," he stated, imploring her with desperate, wild eyes that broke her heart all over again. "You brought _him_ back, you can do the same for Elena."

_Oh god, I wish I could, _she thought with a pang of guilt. "The witches cut me off, remember?" she managed through her tears as she failed her friend for a second time. "There's no way I could draw on enough power to bring Elena…to bring Elena back."

"She's your best friend," he snapped, making it sound like an accusation. Bile burned at the back of Bonnie's throat as she looked toward Stefan for help, but the younger Salvatore was watching her with the same naked hope as his brother.

"I know," she whispered.

"_Do _something, dammit, you're a witch!"

"I can't!" she insisted desperately, holding her head in her hands.

Grabbing her wrists, Damon pulled them away from her face, forcing her to meet his gaze. "Try!"

"Okay!" she cried, wiping the tears from her cheeks as she crawled around Damon and knelt by Elena's head. _Please let me be wrong,_ she prayed, reigning in her tears as she took in the girl's broken and bloodied form before hesitantly placing her hand on Elena's forehead. Reaching out with her senses, she called for the threads of Power in the various forms of life surrounding her. Answering, they came to her and her heart surged with hope until they stopped just out of her reach. Uttering a sound of frustration, she reached harder, but even though they spoke to each of her five senses, only a faint trickle came through the barrier the witches had erected after she'd brought Jeremy back three years ago. It was enough for her to perform the simplest of spells, but nowhere near the Power she needed to raise the dead.

Stubbornly, Bonnie tried again, and again and a third time – each attempt resulting in failure. "Dammit," she cried, sinking back on her heels and glaring accusingly up at the newly risen moon. What the hell was the point of being a witch if she couldn't help her friends? Elena didn't deserve this – _Damon _didn't deserve it. Looking back at the body, she gently closed the dead girl's vacant eyes before meeting Damon's gaze and shaking her head. "I can't."

Stefan's heart sank as Bonnie choked on a sob and the last ray of hope died in his brother's eyes. Seething, Damon released Elena's hand and lurched to his feet. Turning away, he ran a hand through his hair as Stefan stared after him helplessly. He was lost and broken, immune to the apology tumbling from Bonnie's mouth. "I'm so sorry, Damon. I wish I was stronger, but I just…I'm not…I'm so-."

Suddenly, blinded by rage and pain, Damon whirled on her, grabbing her by the throat with one hand. Her eyes went wide with shock as she clawed at him ineffectually.

He began to squeeze.

Before he could choke the life out of her, a strong hand locked around his wrist and a commanding voice cut through the haze. "Damon. Stop."

Using all of his strength, Stefan pulled his brother off of the witch, hauling him back toward the rocks. Bonnie collapsed to the ground, gasping for air as she brought a hand to her bruised throat, but Stefan didn't have time to worry about her. The bruises would heal.

A crushed windpipe, courtesy of a grief-stricken Damon, wouldn't.

"Get the fuck off of me," Damon roared, wrenching out of Stefan's grip and using his full strength to throw him across the clearing. Slamming into a tree with bone-cracking force, Stefan felt his back break as he made contact. Landing on the ground in a heap, he fought through the pain, managing to climb to his knees before Damon came at him again.

"Guys, _stop,_" Bonnie's anguished cry barely penetrated the sound of fists hitting flesh, grunts of pain and the cracking of tree branches. Human blood had made Stefan stronger and he'd intended on pulling his punches and letting Damon take out his grief with his fists, however, as the fight raged on without a sign of slowing down, he found himself fighting back in earnest just to fend off the blows.

Damon's fist connected with Stefan's jaw in a brutal right hook, breaking bones and sending him sprawling onto the ground. Reacting to the pain alone, he forgot his plan to play punching bag and picked up a thick, fallen branch. Swinging at Damon's right side with all of his strength, he heard a satisfying crunch as his brother's ribs shattered. The pain was enough to earn both of them a momentary reprieve.

"Damon, this won't help Elena," Stefan gasped, tossing the branch aside and leaning against a rock. Damon was doubled over in the middle of the clearing, one arm wrapped around his torso, the other braced on his thigh as he grit his teeth against the agony in his side. Spitting out a mouthful of blood, Stefan gently probed his tender jaw as he continued. "We need to take her home."

_And I need to get you out of here before you completely break._

"Home," Damon sneered, straightening as he continued to hold his injured ribs. "And then what? Start planning her funeral? Pick out a coffin so we can stick her in the ground next to Jenna and John and her parents?" Shifting his gaze, he glared at Bonnie. "You two have fun with that. Go and do all of those useless things humans do to trick themselves into thinking they can forget and move on. I'm not interested."

"Who said anything about forgetting?" Stefan demanded indignantly. He and Elena may have gone their separate ways, but she was still his friend, still important to him. He wasn't in a hurry to put her in the past, he just wanted to get them out of there - get Damon away from this place where the air hung so thick with Elena's blood, Stefan doubted it would ever clear. "Let's just go. Elena wouldn't want-."

"Shut the hell up," his brother cried, whirling around with such ferocity that Stefan thought he was going to start another fight. "You don't get to do that. You don't get to tell me what Elena would want. You don't know her anymore, Stefan. You fucking left to be with Katherine. A phone call every few months doesn't give you the _right_."

"Damon, that's not-."

"No, _Stefan_," he replied, stalking over to him and hauling him off of the ground by his shirt. Glaring at him with eyes that were black and raw with pain, he hissed. "There's only one thing I can do for Elena now and it's going to make me feel a hell of a lot better than putting her in a fucking box."

"Killing Landis won't help," he insisted as Damon released him and tried to turn away. A hand on his arm stopped him before he could take a single step. "This won't bring her back."

Damon wrenched away, shouting. "He has to die."

"I know," Stefan replied with equal force, keeping pace as his brother made his way toward the edge of the clearing. "I know he does, and I'll help you. Elena first and then we can go after Landis together. We'll make him pay."

Damon stared at him for a long moment before once more turning his gaze back to Elena. Stefan looked away, unable to deal with the sheer magnitude of suffering he saw in his brother's expression. Anger welled up inside of him. If he'd just been stronger, if he'd just stayed away after he'd pulled her out of the water that night over four years ago, none of this would have happened. Elena would still be alive and blissfully ignorant of the supernatural things that went bump in the night.

When she'd first entered his life, Stefan had never dreamed that Elena would alter the course of his existence. Their romance had been a rocky one, ending as abruptly as it had started, but it had set him on his path to personal acceptance. It had given him his brother back. This…

This wasn't supposed to happen.

Elena wasn't supposed to die. Out of everyone, she was supposed to live. To survive.

Staring at her broken body, he realized one truth. Ultimately, he'd ruined her life.

_And Damon's, _he realized, turning back to his brother. In the end, Damon had done more to preserve the life of the girl now lying shattered on the ground in a metaphorical cemetery, and it had all amounted to nothing.

"You're right, okay? I don't know Elena anymore. Not like you do," he said, speaking quietly as he kept an eye on his brother. "But I know _you_, Damon. I know where your head is at right now and you can throw as many punches as you want, but Elena loved you and she wouldn't want you to get hurt trying to avenge her death."

Damon closed his eyes, clenching his jaw as the words struck him like a physical blow. Stefan cringed, but held his ground, knowing he was right. If Damon went after Landis now, with the grief and loss so fresh in his mind, he'd have no concern for his own self-preservation. Landis would undoubtedly die, but so, most likely, would his brother.

"He took her, Stefan, and now she's…," Damon trailed off and, opening his eyes, looked toward the trees where Elena's body lay beneath the sprawling oak. Shrugging, he began to back away as he said. "There's nothing left to hurt."

Knowing he'd lost the battle, Stefan sighed as his heart broke - for himself, for Jeremy and Alaric, for Bonnie and Caroline, but mostly for his brother.

He watched as Damon disappeared into the trees, chasing after the only thing he had left.

Revenge.

"You let him go?" Bonnie demanded as soon as he turned around.

"I don't know if you know this, but nobody _let's _Damon do anything," he replied wearily, massaging his healed, but sore jaw as he returned to Elena's side. "He's stronger than me. Not by much, but he is and eventually he would have gotten his way."

"So, what do we do now?"

Dragging a hand over his face, he sighed at the thought of returning to Mystic Falls with Elena's body and telling her friends – telling _Jeremy_ – what had happened. "What I said. Take her home and…tell everybody."

A soft _whoosh _caught his attention, followed by a solid _thud _and Bonnie's surprised intake of breath as she stared over his shoulder. "Oh, my god."

Turning toward the new arrival, Stefan started in surprise. "Katherine," he said, as she rose from her crouched landing position and brushed the dust off of her hands. The sight of her was surreal after staring at Elena's lifeless body for the past half hour, but the relief he felt upon seeing her was stronger. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"You really think I was going to stay back in Mystic Falls and babysit?" she scoffed, making her way toward him across the clearing. "Please. I waited half an hour and then followed you."

"But the others-."

"Are fine. I disabled their cars," she assured him with a smirk. Glancing around the clearing, she asked. "Where's Damon? Oh."

A look of palpable shock passed over her features as her gaze landed upon Elena's body. Wide-eyed, she placed a hand on his arm. "Oh, shit. Stefan-."

"I'm okay," he assured her, taking her hand and pulling her into an embrace. Burying his face in her hair, he breathed in her familiar, comforting scent. _Thank God it wasn't you, _he thought, immediately burying the selfish, callous notion. When they came apart, he indulged his need to feel her warm, inviting lips beneath his before giving her the Cliff's Notes version of what had happened. "Damon's the one I'm worried about," he admitted when he'd finished, holding onto her tightly, as if she were anchoring him to the spot and he'd simply drift away into space if he let go. "He's gone after Landis."

"Well…_yeah_," Katherine replied, gesturing toward Elena and Bonnie and looking at him as if he'd lost his mind. "You didn't think he'd just let this slide, did you?"

"Of course not," he said. "But in the state he's in, I don't know if he's going to make it back."

"Do you think he wants to?" Katherine asked with complete sincerity. Lightly touching his cheek, she added. "I know I wouldn't be too concerned with my well-being if that were you lying on the ground without a hope of waking up again."

"That's not-," Stefan began, letting his head fall back so he could glare at the sky. _Am I the only one who's not okay with Damon's death wish?_ Suddenly, his expression cleared. "Go with him."

"What? No," Katherine shook her head vehemently. "I'm sorry for his pain and all of that, but I'm not going on some revenge mission with him over _Elena_."

"Go with him," he insisted, the look in his eye silencing any protest. "And make sure he doesn't do anything that he can't come back from."

"Stefan," she whined, making a face at him.

"Please, Katherine," he said, tenderly caressing her cheek. Katherine softened even as she rolled her eyes. Stefan wrapped an arm around her waist and tugged her closer. "I don't want my brother to die."

"You're a manipulative bastard, you know that?" she grumbled as she melted into his arms. Resting her forehead against his, she sank her long fingers into his hair before kissing him. "You owe me," she declared as she pulled away.

"I know," he replied, nearly smiling with relief.

"I'm keeping track," she warned, slowly pulling out of their embrace.

"Good," he replied as she started moving toward the tree line, his eyes locked on her form. "Keep your phone on."

Katherine nodded and he watched her as she disappeared into the thick forest, leaving him and Bonnie alone with Elena's body.

"Can we, um," Bonnie cleared her throat and raised her ruined voice. "Can we take Elena home now?"

"Yeah," Stefan nodded, tearing his gaze away from the trees and the spot where he'd last seen Katherine, focusing on Elena. Anger and sorrow warred within him, and shaking his head, he knelt on the ground at her side before lifting her carefully off of the ground. "Let's get her out of here."

* * *

Katherine easily maneuvered through the forest, racing through the thick underbrush and close growing trees as if she did it every day. The physical exertion felt good, a welcome distraction from the scene she'd come upon.

Dead. Elena Gilbert, the _second _Petrova doppelganger, was dead. Katherine couldn't fully wrap her mind around it. She had no love for the girl and her only sorrow over her death stemmed from what she knew it meant to the Salvatores, but she couldn't deny she was…well, shocked that they'd failed. They'd saved the danger prone human from every threat under the sun, had even bested an Original during the ongoing battle to keep her alive and _this _was how it had ended? At the hands of a puny little newbie vampire like Landis?

That was just fucking annoying.

Leaping over a fallen tree, she veered slightly to the right and picked up the speed. Damon's trail was easy to follow, his scent ingrained in her memory so deeply that she could have found it in the middle of a crowded city. He'd been moving fast, but she was faster and before so much as a bead of sweat had broken out on her brow, she burst through the trees, arriving back at the resort.

Slowing to a jog, she wove through the free-standing cabins and made her way to the gravel parking lot. Damon was standing near the black SUV, clinging to the luggage rack on the roof with a white-knuckled grip as he let his forehead rest against the driver's side window. Even with his back to her and without seeing his face, the sheer anguish radiating off of him was suffocating.

_Dammit, Elena, why'd you have to die? _she wondered, knowing that if the shoe were on the other foot, if she'd lost Stefan, she would be equally destroyed.

"Damon," she said, keeping a good six feet of separation between them in case he flipped out and went for her throat again. He made no indication that he'd heard her, his body as rigid as a statue where it stood. Clearing her throat, she tried again. "Damon."

"Go away, Katherine," Damon replied without questioning her presence.

Sighing, she advanced a few steps closer. "I can't," she said. "I wish I could, but I promised Stefan I wouldn't let you kill yourself."

"I don't give a fuck what you promised him," he snapped. "Leave."

"No," she replied, closing the distance between them one step at a time. "I'm not leaving you like this. I'm going to help you get revenge for Elena-."

Moving faster than expected, he grabbed her by the back of the head and slammed her into the hood of the SUV. "Don't you dare say her name," he hissed into her ear as he leaned into her with his full weight, twisting a handful of hair hard enough to make it hurt. Wincing against the pain, Katherine indulged him for a moment as he continued. "Don't pretend you care. I stopped believing your lies a long time ago."

_Oh, for fuck's sake, _she thought, rolling her eyes at his melodramatic speech. Twisting out of his grasp faster than he could register the movement, she turned the tables on him. Grabbing _him _by the throat this time, she flipped him onto the hard-packed gravel. He landed on his back with an audible _oomph _as the wind was knocked out of his lungs.

"I'm getting tired of being attacked," she said, planting a foot on either side of his body and crouching over him. The hulking body of the vehicle blocked out the moonlight, but that didn't stop Katherine from seeing the raw anguish mixed with hatred in Damon's blue eyes. "You know it's pointless."

Gripping her wrist, he squeezed it hard enough to crack the delicate bones beneath her skin, but she didn't ease up, didn't react to the pain that shot up her arm. Instead, she focused on him, narrowing her eyes as she tried to figure out how to reason with a man crippled by grief. She was comfortable with his hatred and anger, expected it really, in a way that often made things awkward when he _wasn't _looking at her like he wanted to rip her throat out. But this…this was different. He couldn't even look at her.

Shit.

_Of course. _

Understanding hit her at once, making her feel like an absolute fool for not realizing it the second he turned on her back in Mystic Falls. Sinking to her knees, she sat on his legs and reached for his face. "Damon, look at me."

"Get off of me," he argued, stubbornly refusing to meet her eye.

"Look. At. Me," she demanded, using her superior strength to force the issue. Finally, he focused on her face. "I'm not her."

"What the hell are you talking about?" he muttered, trying to twist out of her grasp, but she dug her knees into his ribs and tightened her grip on his throat.

"Elena," she said. "I'm not Elena. I know you see her when you look at me, but I am _not_ her."

Damon quit fighting, staring at her with dry, red eyes. "That's the problem."

Leaning closer, Katherine looked beyond the feeble walls he'd tried to erect to the fathomless wells of pain behind his eyes. _He's drowning in it, _she realized as another pang of sympathy hit her harder than before. Nodding, she knew what had to be done. "Turn it off."

"What?"

"Your humanity," she explained. "Flip the switch and turn it off."

"The switch is bullshit," he retorted, watching her now with an unwavering gaze, almost as if he couldn't look away. "There is no _off_. It always comes back."

"I know, but you don't need always, you just need right now," she reasoned, loosening her grip on his chin. "You need to be able to look at me without losing it. You need to be able to think clearly and rationally if you want to get your revenge for Elena's de-."

"Don't," he whispered, silencing her with the sharp edge of his despair. Closing his eyes briefly, he swallowed.

_Jesus. _He couldn't even hear the word spoken aloud.

No longer fighting her, he clung to her wrist with both hands as his chest rose and fell in quick shallow breaths beneath her. _Fuck, Damon, you're killing me, _she thought as she released his throat and took his face between her hands. Not for the first time, she envied the Originals and their ability to compel other vampires. At the moment, she would have given anything for the ability to compel Damon to forget he'd ever met Elena.

Leaning closer until her hair fell in a curtain of curls around his head, blocking out everything but her face, she pushed every bit of compulsive power at him anyway. "Turn it off, Damon," she murmured softly.

"You can't compel me, Katherine."

"I'm not compelling," she argued. "I'm begging."

"Why do you even care? You hated her. You hate me," he replied, his voice cracking under the weight of so much grief. "You've always loved watching me suffer."

"Priorities change," she shrugged. "Watching you self-destruct isn't on my must see list anymore. Do it, Damon."

He held her gaze for several long moments – during which she was certain he was just working out his next argument – before taking a deep breath and closing his eyes. Katherine watched him carefully, noting each minute change in his features – the line that appeared between his brows, the tick of a muscle in his jaw – until finally, his lashes fluttered and he released the breath he'd been holding.

The familiar blue eyes that stared into hers were empty, cold and clear. Raising a brow, she asked. "Better?"

He stared at her, his gaze darting over her features, before reaching up to cover her hands with his own. Locking his fingers around her wrists, he ordered in a calm, even tone. "Get off of me."

Silently, she obeyed, eyeing him warily as she first sat back on her heels, then slowly rose to her feet. Reaching out a hand, she helped him up, noting the way everything around them looked exactly the same and yet felt exponentially different.

Even the air seemed lighter.

"Well, that certainly worked," she sighed, brushing gravel dust from her black pants. "What now? Any idea where to start tracking down Landis?"

"Yup," Damon declared with a sharp nod as he opened the door of the SUV and slipped behind the wheel. _Okay, _Katherine thought as she blurred around to the passenger's side.

"So where do we go to catch a homicidal vampire?" she asked, closing the door before stretching out her longs legs.

"South Carolina," Damon said, smirking at Katherine's shocked expression as he twisted the key, shifted into reverse and stomped on the accelerator. The vehicle roared to life, the tires spitting up gravel as he peeled out of the parking lot.

* * *

Rolling down the window of the rental car Katherine had left at the resort when she'd vanished with Damon, Stefan breathed in the fresh night air. Bonnie sat in the back seat, cradling Elena's body in her lap. The interior of the car reeked of blood, making his head pound and his throat ache with thirst.

It sickened him.

Although he'd learned to completely control his reaction to the bloodlust since the summer it had changed his life, the _lust _was still there, calling to him, begging him to give in. He hated that it was rearing its head because of Elena's blood.

Because of her…death.

Fresh failure sliced through him, robbing him of breath as his brain struggled to accept the truth. Elena was dead, killed with almost no warning by an enemy no one had seen coming.

How was that even possible?

The highway stretched out into the darkness as he wrestled with the _coulda, woulda, shoulda's _of the night. Damon should havewaited before stepping out into that clearing, because Bonnie would havebeen able to brain whammy Landis as soon as he'd stepped away from the edge of the cliff. He could have been picking a very much alive Elena up off of the clearing floor instead of scraping her off of the rocks at the foot of the cliff.

Shaking his head, Stefan sighed. Hindsight was twenty-twenty. If he'd been in Damon's shoes, he probably would have done the same thing. The bitter reality was that they'd been caught off guard and underestimated Landis.

Elena had paid for that mistake with her life.

Stefan had seen countless people – humans – grow old and die in his unnatural lifetime. He'd accepted it as a part of the natural order of things – something that he, a decidedly _unnatural _being, couldn't have.

But Elena had been different. The time he'd spent with her – loving her – seemed like a dream, pleasant but…wrong. She belonged with Damon. It had taken some time for Stefan to think about the two of them together without feeling uncomfortable, but now, after three years, he couldn't think of them any other way. Together or apart, Elena had become an indelible part of his existence and now she was just…

Gone.

* * *

_Stefan stared indecisively at his cell phone, his thumb hovering over the 'send' button as the light dimmed on the number displayed on the touch screen. _

_Elena's number._

_It was her birthday and for some utterly insane reason he'd decided a week ago to mark the occasion with a phone call. They hadn't spoken in nearly two years – not since the horrific conversation when he'd callously told her that he didn't regret throwing her into the side of a brick building and leaving her for dead – and he'd spent the week rehearsing exactly what he'd say when she answered the phone. _

_When he hadn't been telling himself to forget the whole thing, of course. _

_He knew it was arrogant to think she even wanted to hear from him. He and Damon never spoke of her directly, but based on certain things his brother had said, Stefan knew that she was happy – that they were both happy – in Atlanta. Damon would make sure she stayed that way whether he worked up the courage to call her or not, so what was he beating himself up about?_

"_Stefan, we're going to miss our reservation," Katherine called from the other side of the door of their penthouse suite._

"_We don't have a reservation," he reminded her, holding his phone out of sight as she poked her head into the bathroom and grinned. _

"_I know. I just like saying that," she teased, giving him a wink as she turned away in a flourish of curls and curve-hugging leather. Katherine knew about his conversations with Damon and harassed him endlessly about it, but she had no idea he'd been contemplating a phone call to Elena today of all days._

_After all, it was Katherine's birthday, too._

"_Hurry up!" she insisted. _

_Stefan cursed softly – too soft for Katherine to hear – and poked his head out of the bathroom. Lounging on the bed, she sipped champagne from a tall crystal flute, fixing him with a coy smile when she caught his eye. _

"_I'll be just a minute," he said, leaning against the doorframe and letting his eyes travel over her body appreciatively. "Then we'll go, I promise." _

"_I swear, it takes you longer to do your hair than it does me," she groused good-naturedly as he ducked back inside of the bathroom and closed the door behind him. He felt like a heel, keeping this secret from her, and he promised himself he'd tell her...eventually. She didn't need to hear that he was calling his ex-girlfriend, who just happened to be her literal doppelganger, on her birthday._

Okay, Salvatore_, he thought, pushing a button on his phone and bringing it to life. He rehearsed what he wanted to say as Elena's number stared at him accusingly. _

I'm sorry, Elena. I owe you so much more than an apology for what I did to you in Savannah, the way we ended things and for taking so long to work up the courage to contact you, but it's the best I can do. I'm glad you're with Damon. Glad you're happy. It took me a long time, but I've finally figured out this vampire thing. I know who I am now, how to _be_ and I'm happy, too. Things between us don't have to remain strained. If you want to – if you could find it in your heart – I'd like to start over. To be friends. Happy Birthday, Elena.

_It was a good speech, covering everything he wanted to say without being too pushy or making it seem like he assumed she'd feel the same. He wasn't naïve enough to think that one apology would mend all the wrongs between them, but he had to start somewhere. _

_Taking a breath, he pushed a button and brought the phone to his ear. Ring after ring echoed inside of his head until her voicemail picked up and Elena's recorded message played. _

Hi, you've reached Elena. Sorry I can't get to my phone right now, but if you leave me a message, I'll get back to you.

_The chipper voice sounded exactly like Katherine, yet nothing like her and it rendered Stefan speechless as all of his pretty words flew from his mind. He winced as the beep sounded loudly in his ear, reminding him to speak. Swallowing, he opened his mouth a few times before murmuring quietly…_

"_Happy Birthday, Elena." _

…_and then he hung up._

* * *

The rental car quickly devoured the two hundred mile drive and before Stefan was ready, they were passing the "Welcome to Mystic Falls" sign on the outskirts of town. He went slowly, minding the speed limit as he drove through the silent town square. All too soon, however, he was turning into the driveway of a house he still thought of as home.

Putting the car into park, he looked toward the front windows and noticed Caroline immediately. She'd been leaning against the window, but perked up at the sound of the engine. Blond hair flew as she looked over her shoulder and suddenly Tyler appeared at her side. A second later Jeremy and Alaric joined them.

_Shit. _

Sighing, he scrubbed a hand over his face and glanced into the rearview mirror. Clearing his throat, he asked. "Are you ready for this?"

Bonnie shook her head, wiping away tears that wouldn't stop flowing. "No."

"Yeah," he sighed, turning the key in the ignition and unbuckling his seat belt. "Me neither."


	12. On Borrowed Time

_AN: Way back after chapter three, **wsm01** replied with how happy she was that DaCP wasn't another "Save Elena Story." I read that and cringed since I knew in about two chapters Damon was going to get that call from Landis and find out that Elena had, in fact, been kidnapped. I promised **wsm01 **that this would NOT be your typical Save Elena Story. _

_So…my friend, did I deliver? LOL_

_Writing this chapter was HARD. Crazy hard because I desperately want it to live up to the previous two chapters. _

_Also, I don't think that Damon's humanity switch was fully ON when he returned to Mystic Falls at the beginning of the show. I think it had already broken and he was just running on muscle memory or something. So, I had to figure out how to write a No Humanity version of Damon and it was really hard. My beta and I spent at least three days discussing what the humanity switch really meant and I think I rewrote the opening like, six times. _

_I'm not looking for compliments here, I'm just nervous and when I get nervous I talk a lot - or in this case - type a lot. LOL I'll shut up now because this is really freaking long (although it is NOT as long as claims. Stupid page breaks...) and I know you're not really interested in listening to me babble. _

_As always, thank you for the replies, please let me know what you think of this one and ENJOY!_

Chapter Twelve - On Borrowed Time

Elena Gilbert was dead.

Narrowing his eyes, Damon cocked his head, casually steering the SUV with one hand as he let the words resonate within his mind, testing the switch.

Elena – _his _Elena – was dead.

Gone.

He'd never hold her again, never kiss her again, and never make love to her again. There would be no more nights falling asleep with her body wrapped around his, no more mornings waking up to find her tucked securely against his side. He'd never see her smile, never wipe away her tears, and never hear her laugh.

The life they'd built together was gone.

Forever.

He'd never get it back.

The list of nevers stretched out one by one as Damon deliberately pondered them all, waiting for the moment when one of them started the avalanche of emotion that would be his undoing.

It didn't happen.

The switch was secure – for now – keeping him calm and focused in a way that he hadn't been in years. He wasn't in denial. He understood all too well what he'd lost and that it was only a matter of time before the switch short-circuited and plunged him back into debilitating loss and pain, but for the moment, he was free to do what had to be done.

And – irony of ironies – he had Katherine to thank for it.

After he'd been turned, Damon had spent fifty years wallowing in a constant state of mourning – he'd mourned Katherine and his human life, hating himself for being a parasitic blight on his fellow man and hating the part of himself that enjoyed the brief, euphoric moments of bloodlust even more. He'd mourned for those he'd had to kill to survive. He'd mourned for his brother and their relationship, even as he'd hated and cursed Stefan for forcing him to become a monster.

He'd even mourned for his father.

Then in 1912, Damon had met Sage and everything had changed.

Discovering the humanity switch had eradicated all of the guilt, shame and utter despair that had prevented him from truly embracing the decadent dark side of vampirism. Sage had done more than teach him the thrill of the chase, she'd finally given him permission to act on all of the wants and desires that he'd been stifling for decades because it hadn't been _right _or _proper. _

Damon had never forgotten those first few moments of freedom.

His past had ceased to matter. Though it had been there, hovering on the edges of his mind like a grey, soul-sucking specter, desperately trying to pull him back into the depths of despair, the switch had protected him. He'd said goodbye to his human life, goodbye to his feelings of self-loathing and inadequacy, and said hello to acting on the instincts he'd been fighting since that first taste of fresh, human blood.

And act he had.

For a decade he'd indulged in the monster and reveled in the demon, racking up a body count during that short time period that doubled that of his other one hundred and sixty years. He'd succeeded as a vampire in all the ways that he'd failed as a man, living a life that would have appalled his human self even as it had looked on with envy.

Eventually, his tendency to let his victim's bodies fall where they may had attracted the attention of local authorities once too often and he'd accepted that some…_adjustments _hadneeded to be made. A more measured indulgence would need to be enacted if he were to continue to live amongst the humans he needed to survive.

Compulsion had become his weapon of choice and his body count had dropped dramatically.

Through it all, his memories of Katherine continued to haunt him—her beautiful face, a specter that he'd see when he closed his eyes at night drunk from the kill and high on blood. He'd charmed and seduced his way into the beds of countless women, but his love for her had never faded. Despite the switch, his all-consuming passion for her had remained, almost tangible in its intensity.

When Bree had given him the spell to bring her back, that passion had become an obsession.

It wasn't until he'd blown back into Mystic Falls, and started playing possum with random motorists, that he'd realized that his quest to free Katherine from the tomb had marked the first slip of the humanity switch. Bree's spell and the obsessive need that had followed had reawakened his hope, the first of his emotions to filter back into heavy rotation, and others had soon followed.

When he'd gone to see Isobel, threatening to choke the life out of her because of one Elena Gilbert, he'd realized that the switch was well and truly broken, had been broken for a long time, and that his humanity, and all the feelings that came with it, was back. And ready to fuck with him.

Because it had broken once, Damon knew it would break again, faster and more merciless than before. This time, however, it wouldn't be a gradual trickle of feelings that took decades, it would be an instant avalanche of devastating, paralyzing emotion, because what he'd felt for Katherine had been less than a shadow of his feelings for Elena – to what he'd _had _with Elena. When the switch failed this time, his humanity would rush back in with a vengeance and he'd be helpless to stop it.

_I better work fast, _Damon decided, abandoning the walk down memory lane as he pressed harder on the accelerator. The needle on the SUV's speedometer jumped as the headlights cut through the darkness of the early morning. He had to stay focused. There was no time for obsession, no time to allow his feelings for Elena to short out that damn switch and turn him back into the useless puddle of emotions that Katherine had had to scrape off of the gravel. He had a purpose and it stretched out before him in his mind as clear and solid as the highway stretched out toward the lightening horizon.

Find Landis. Kill Landis.

The two directives were simple and pure, born of cold logic rather than emotion. Landis had always been a talkative fool. Too talkative. Too foolish. And he'd threatened to make Damon the biggest fool of them all.

Before Elena had gone over the side of the cliff, he'd threatened him. _Him_. Threatened to make Damon suffer, to cause him pain, and while his switch was now firmly in the on position, not for good but for now, the sheer audacity of the threat was enough to sign Landis' death warrant.

And Damon was more than okay with that.

"God, two hundred miles and still no signal," Katherine muttered, scowling at her cell phone before shoving it into the glove compartment. Frustrated, she slammed it shut before crossing her arms and slouching in the passenger's seat. "Do we have to take the back roads of civilization all of the way to South Carolina?"

"Yup," he replied, reaching into his pocket and pulling out his cell phone. The screen had cracked in a half dozen places and it stayed dark no matter which button he pressed. _Must have broken in the fall, _he concluded, rolling down the window and discarding it as he felt the weight of Katherine's gaze boring holes into the side of his face. He ignored her for a few miles before raising a brow and looking her way. "Something on your mind?"

"I'm just trying to decide how you're doing," she replied, stretching her long legs out as she studied him. "You seem fine."

"I _am_ fine," he replied easily.

"Hmmm," Katherine said noncommittally, allowing another ten minutes and twenty miles to disappear beneath the hood of the car before she spoke again. "So," she prompted. "Why South Carolina?"

"Why not?" he asked with a grin. "I hear it's beautiful this time of year."

"It's nice to see your sense of humor has returned," she rolled her eyes as she sighed. "Look, Damon, I'm glad you can look at me without dissolving into a puddle of emotional goo, but I've let you ride on the coattails of that achievement for three hours. If I'm going to help you in this little revenge mission, I'm going to need some answers."

"I thought you were helping me because you promised Stefan," he retorted, bristling at her condescending tone.

"Whatever," she said, waving her hand dismissively. "Answers. _Now_."

Deciding that an explanation would be far less annoying than hours of her whining, Damon answered. "Landis's brother Gregory owns a bar just over the border from the North."

"So?"

"So, that's where Landis will go," he replied. "He doesn't have a daylight ring so he can't travel while the sun is up. We'll get to the bar first and wait for him."

"But how do you know he'll go there?" she demanded when he didn't explain further. "After his little stunt, don't you think he might opt to, I don't know, disappear for a few decades?"

"Not Landis," Damon muttered with absolute certainty. "He always goes back to his brother. Especially when he fucks up."

* * *

_Damon stood in the shadows of the oversized oaken whiskey barrels, his hands shoved casually into the pockets of his perfectly pressed pants. Outwardly, with his suit jacket off and his sleeves rolled up, he seemed the picture of nonchalance, but inwardly he was seething. _

This is why I told you not to turn him, Gregory,_ he thought, gazing steadily at the recently turned vampire who – at the moment – he regretted having to call partner._ If I'd wanted to deal with Landis for eternity I would have taken care of it myself.

"_She was nothing, Gregory," Landis insisted, trying – and failing – to remain dignified and aloof despite the copious amount of blood staining his clothes. The entire cellar reeked of it, the metallic scent overpowering the stench of the constantly running stills. _

"_Nothing? She was the mayor's daughter," Gregory argued. "This town is full of women that nobody would miss and you chose the blasted mayor's daughter."_

"_She's_ human_," Landis sneered with all of the arrogance of the newly turned. Damon had witnessed the same attitude in Stefan during the first few months that they'd spent together after they had become vampires. Humans had been cattle to the younger Salvatore, a food source to be culled at his whim without regard to the consequences._

_Unlike Stefan, however, Landis actually had his moments of usefulness. He possessed an innate ability to gain people's trust and learn their secrets and weaknesses while appearing completely harmless – which was ironic considering the fact that he was a complete sociopath. Talent like that was invaluable in the bootlegging business and also the only reason Damon hadn't broken both brothers' necks and staked them out in the sun to fry when he'd discovered what Gregory had done. _

_But if Landis couldn't learn a little fucking subtlety, he was going to reconsider._

"_You're jeopardizing the entire operation," Gregory roared, shooting a withering look toward the corner where Landis stood by the barrels of whiskey. The younger man stared at his brother, unimpressed and unfazed by his tirade. "What the hell were you thinking?" _

"_I was hungry," he replied with a grin that showed off the sharp points of his canines. "And she smelled so good." _

_Gregory scowled, turning to Damon with an expression of helpless resignation and apology. Gazing steadily at the bootlegger, Damon shrugged in response._ This is all on you, Greg.

"_I did her a favor, really," Landis continued, picking at one of the many blood stains marring his expensive suit. "Considering the company she was keeping it was only a matter of time before she met with a violent end. She wasn't daddy's little girl anymore."_

_Facing Damon, Gregory closed his eyes, quiet rage radiating from him in pulsing waves. In a burst of fury, the new vampire ripped a chunk of wood free from the supply shelves before whirling around and charging at his brother. _

"_What are you doing?" Landis asked, his voice raising an octave in fear and surprise as Gregory pushed him against the hard packed dirt wall of the cellar._

"_Damon warned me that turning you was a mistake," Gregory hissed as the veins around his eyes leapt to the surface. "He warned me that your_ proclivities_ would make you a terrible vampire, but I defended you. I promised him that your connections would be an asset to the business. That your contributions would outweigh the headache of dealing with your unfailing stupidity. Do you know why?"_

_Landis shook his head, too afraid of his older brother to remember that he could fight back. _

"_People are fools when it comes to family," Damon explained evenly as he approached the warring siblings. "They think with their heart." _

"_But she was_ human_," Landis insisted, as if that was the only point that mattered. "We're better than them, I don't understand why-."_

"_Because we're immortal, not invulnerable," Damon growled, grabbing Gregory's wrist and shoving the makeshift stake through Landis' sternum. The younger vampire howled in surprise and pain as the splintered wood missed his heart by inches. "We're stronger than humans, but they're not helpless," Damon continued, clamping a hand over his mouth as he thought of what his father and the other members of the Town Council had accomplished with a little vervaine and the element of surprise. His thoughts briefly turned to Katherine, but he pushed those feelings brutally aside, leaning on the stake and driving it further into the other vampire's body. "They have the advantage of greater numbers and yet you keep insisting on killing in front of witness. I don't care if you eat the goddamn president as long as you're discreet and keep the wannabe Van Helsings off of my back." _

"_I'm…sorry," Landis wheezed, tears running down his face from the torture._

"_No you're not," Damon argued. "But that's fine. I don't care. Do you know why?" _

_Landis shook his head. _

"_Because I can do this," he replied, shifting his grip and snapping Landis' neck in less than a second. The younger vampire collapsed to the dirt floor in a heap as Gregory stood above him in horror._

"_What did you-what the hell did you…?" he sputtered, staring at his brother. "You killed him."_

"_Yes, I did," Damon said, grabbing a rag off of one of the bottling tables and wiping the blood from his hands. "And I'm going to keep doing it until he learns some manners. I have one rule, Gregory. I don't give a shit about the humans, but I insist on secrecy. I told you that when we met. I warned you what I'd do if you were reckless. You turned Landis anyway."_

"_I know," Gregory said, hanging his head in an almost cartoonish expression of regret. "But he's…"_

"_Your brother," Damon finished with a nod, tossing the bloody rag back onto the table._ Oh, how I know that tune_, he thought, idly wondering what Stefan was up to at the moment. _I've even memorized the lyrics.

_Crossing the hard-packed dirt floor, he clamped a hand on Gregory's shoulder. "Keep him in line. If you don't...if he jeopardizes_ my_ life one too many times…I'll kill you both."_

* * *

"Jesus fucking Christ," Katherine muttered when Damon came to the end of his story. Raising his brows, he looked at her questioningly as she shook her head in disgust. "Brothers. Why is it always fucking brothers? Elijah and Klaus, you and Stefan and now Landis and Gregory. Am I like, some sort of beacon for dysfunctional families?"

"Why yes, Katherine," he replied with a snort. "This _is _all about you."

Shooting him a withering glare, she said. "You should have killed Landis that night."

"I'm aware of that," he snapped, tightening his grip on the steering wheel. "It's a mistake I plan to rectify as soon as we get to South Carolina."

"How?"

"I'm working on it," he replied in clipped tones.

"Well, work fast, Damon," she replied, shifting in the seat and crossing her ankle over her knee. "I've got your back for whatever hell you want to rain down on Landis and Gregory, but I need to know what I'm getting into."

"I thought you liked spontaneity."

"Oh, I love it," she replied, a wicked smile briefly lighting up her face. Sobering just as quickly, she continued. "But I promised Stefan that I'd bring you back in one piece, and in order to do that I need a little warning. So…full disclosure, Damon. What are you planning to do to avenge Elena?"

_Avenge Elena? _Damon sneered, glancing at Katherine out of the corner of his eye as he shook his head. _There's nothing I can do to _avenge_ Elena, _he thought dispassionately. Her broken body lying bloodied and lifeless on the rocks drifted across his mind's eye, but the switch held firm. There was nothing he could do to Landis that would come close to payback for what he'd done to her. Damon could torture him for a decade, a century, and it wouldn't bring her back, would do nothing to soothe the raging, grief-stricken, shell of a man that he'd buried with a flick of the switch.

Landis was going to die, but not for Elena.

He was going to die because Damon should have killed him in the 20s when he'd killed that girl. He should have killed him 3 years ago when he gotten what he needed from him on Klaus. Even more simply, Landis was going to die because he needed to. He was a blight on the species – a cancerous, waste of space that put them all at risk with his sociopathic tendencies. Landis killed without thought to exposure, took what didn't belong to him and had zero regard for those who were older, wiser and far more powerful.

Landis was going to die because he'd had the audacity to think he could _take_ what belonged to Damon and live.

This wasn't _revenge_, this was retribution.

"Don't worry, Katherine," he said, turning his attention back to the road. "I'll give you plenty of warning. Now, just sit back, shut up and enjoy the sunrise."

Katherine pursed her lips, but did as she was told for once, allowing Damon to follow his own advice and watch the glowing orb that was so deadly to most of his kind crest the horizon. He wondered if he should inform her now or later that she'd have to break her promise to Stefan. He had no intention of going back – in one piece or otherwise. Not to Mystic Falls, not to Atlanta, not to anywhere. Damon knew that his plans for Landis were the only thing keeping the switch in place. It was the only thing keeping him going. Once the vampire was dead, once Damon had achieved his goal, _everything_ – all of the hope, despair, love, longing, anguish and pain – would come rushing back, destroying him from the inside out.

There would be nothing left.

That wasn't emotion. That was simple fact.

Elena was dead.

Gone. Forever.

And the way he figured it, if everything went according to plan, this would be his last sunrise.

* * *

Countless times since meeting Elena Gilbert, Alaric Saltzman had found himself in the unenviable position of having to mentally and emotionally prepare himself for her death. Whether someone had wanted her doppelganger blood, or she'd been trying to help someone she loved, Elena had brazenly flirted with the Grim Reaper and as her friend – her _family_ – he'd been forced to consider the possibility that he could lose her. He'd braced himself for that loss, for the gaping hole her absence would leave behind. He'd promised himself that he'd be there for Jeremy, because that's what Elena would have wanted above all else.

Alaric had dealt with more than his fair share of death, and he'd thought himself ready, perhaps even uniquely suited for the job. He may have been the world's worst role model – a borderline alcoholic who palled around with vampires – but dammit, he'd known how to _survive _loss.

Holding the front door open as Stefan carried Elena's lifeless body into the house, Alaric realized how very wrong he'd been.

Numb with shock, he stumbled after the vampire, vaguely aware of the others crowding him from all sides as they collectively made their way into the living room.

Elena was dead.

The words rolled around in Alaric's head as he stared at the bloodstained hem of her formerly white dress and realized that he'd never really thought of those three words together.

It sounded…wrong.

Ignoring the blood, Stefan laid her out on one of the antique sofas in the living room, taking great care in arranging her useless limbs and smoothing out her ruined dress. Alaric had witnessed enough injuries in his lifetime to recognize broken bones when he saw them. Judging from the awkward direction her head was laying on the pillow, he guessed she'd broken most of the bones in her body.

"Jesus, Stefan," Tyler breathed, evidently the only one able to utter a sound. "What the hell happened?"

"We didn't get there in time," the vampire replied, his voice thick with pain as Caroline joined him at Elena's side.

_They failed_, Alaric thought dully as his back hit the nearest wall and he sagged against it. Through the haze of his disbelief, he saw Jeremy shake off his paralysis and grab Stefan by the shirt.

"What the fuck _does that even mean_?" the young man demanded, his voice breaking with emotion.

"Jeremy, I'm sorry," Stefan tried, but the human boy wasn't interested.

"Don't give me _sorry,_" Jeremy cried, as the vampire allowed himself to be shoved backwards toward the fireplace. "You were supposed to rescue my sister, not get her fucking killed."

"That's not what happened, Jeremy," Bonnie said, grabbing for his arm.

"I'd love to know what fucking _did,_" Tyler stated, standing with Jeremy and presenting a united front to the vampire. "I thought Landis was 'just a vampire'. Those were your words, weren't they Stefan?"

"Yeah and they're true," he replied with a hint of impatience. "Landis _is _just a vampire, but-."

"Then explain to me how 'just a vampire' was able to succeed where a fucking Original failed," Jeremy snapped.

"It's not Stefan's fault," Bonnie insisted through her tears as she continued to tug ineffectually at Jeremy's arm. "Look, guys, you weren't there, you don't know…you just don't know, okay?"

"I'm waiting for a goddamn explanation," Tyler replied. "I mean, we were supposed to stay here, so you and Damon could focus on saving Elena instead of keeping our sorry asses alive. How'd that work out for you?"

"Do you want to know what happened or not?" Stefan asked quietly, a hint of violence coloring his tone. Glancing down at Jeremy's fists where they gripped his shirt, he gave the boy a meaningful look and raised a brow. After a moment's hesitation, Jeremy let go, took a step back and crossed his arms.

Stefan hesitated, his gaze drifting toward the couch where Caroline was crouched next to Elena. Licking his lips, he began. "We…we found the cabin where Landis was keeping Elena. But they were already gone. I don't know if…if he knew somehow or if it was just bad timing, but it doesn't matter. They were gone, so we tracked them through the woods."

Pushing himself away from the wall, Alaric made his way slowly across the living room to the bar. Deliberately, he selected a glass before picking up a bottle of whiskey and pouring himself a generous helping. Taking a large swallow, he pressed the glass to his forehead, savoring the burn as he tuned out Stefan's explanation of events. He didn't need to hear what had happened. In the end, the vampire was right. It didn't matter.

None of it mattered.

Elena was dead.

And he had no idea how to deal with it.

* * *

_Sleepily descending the stairs of the Gilbert house on a muggy Sunday morning in June, Alaric had one goal in mind: coffee. He'd been pulled from a deep sleep by the heavenly aroma of a fresh pot brewing in the kitchen and though it was shortly after eight o'clock and horrifically early for a weekend, he hadn't been able to fall back to sleep. _

Why the hell is Elena up?_ he wondered with a yawn. He knew that it had to be Elena. There was no power on the planet that could pull Jeremy out of bed before noon on a non-school day. Two steps later, he groaned as he answered his own question. _

_Damon._

_That bastard always woke early – unless he was suffering from some bourbon induced hangover – and coffee this early in the morning generally meant he'd spent the night._ Great, _Alaric thought, making a face as he hit the landing on the first floor. Seeing his best friend and his…Elena making eyes at each other in the kitchen was exactly what he needed to start his day. _Hell, I'll be lucky if that's all they do._ When Alaric was around Damon had a charming tendency to be overly affectionate with Elena just to make the man squirm – and Alaric knew he gave good squirm. Try as he might, however, he was never able to get a handle on it. He didn't harbor any delusions that Damon and Elena weren't sleeping together, he didn't even have a problem with the idea in theory, he just didn't need to see it flaunted in his face over a bowl of Cheerios every morning. _

_Pausing at the closed door to the kitchen, Alaric took a breath, preparing to give the two lovebirds some warning that he was about to enter when the sound of a motor revving to life caught his attention. Forgetting the promise of caffeine, he went into the living room and peeked through the front curtains. _

What the hell?

_Alaric stared. Obviously, he was still asleep and this was a dream. That was the only explanation for why he was currently watching Jeremy push the lawnmower out of the garage and across the driveway toward the front lawn at 8 am. On a Sunday. _

"_Good morning, Ric."_

_Scooping his jaw off of the floor, he turned around to find Elena blocking his path to the kitchen, a steaming mug of coffee in her hand and an overly bright smile on her face. Raising a brow at the offered cup, he pointed outside. "What's your brother doing?"_

_Rising on her toes, Elena looked around him and out of the window. "Mowing the lawn." _

"_Why?" he asked suspiciously._

_She shrugged. "Um…It needs it?"_

"_It's Sunday," Alaric pointed out._

"_Perfect day for it," Elena replied, grinning even wider._

"_It's Sunday_ morning_," Alaric reiterated, thinking that perhaps Elena didn't understand the full implications of the events that were unfolding. Jeremy was a seventeen year old, soon-to-be senior. It was scientifically, physically and spiritually impossible for him to be_ awake_ this early, let alone doing chores. _

"_I _know, _Ric," Elena said as she held out the coffee toward him more insistently. "Will you relax? For the past week, Jeremy's been promising to mow the lawn. If I were you, I wouldn't question it," she pointed out, nodding with satisfaction when he finally accepted the mug. "Now…would you like a muffin?" _

"_Excuse me?" Alaric had been so caught up in the anomaly occurring outside that he hadn't even noticed the plate in her other hand. _

"_Are you hungry?" Elena asked before precisely repeating her previous offer. "Would you like a muffin?"_

_Alaric eyed the plate of muffins warily, once again convinced that he was dreaming. "What's going on?" _

"_What are you talking about?" she asked innocently. _

A little too innocently_, he thought, narrowing his eyes as he decided he probably wasn't dreaming and that some new supernatural entity had possessed both of the Gilberts during the night. Gesturing with the coffee mug, he said. "Jeremy mowing the lawn, the coffee, the muffins…what are you two up to?" _

"_Nothing," Elena insisted, lifting up the plate and pointing at the baked goods. "Here, I made blueberry and apple cinnamon."_

_His eyes widened in shock. "You_ made _them?" _

"_Stop looking at me like that!" she protested. "Baking is not_ cooking _and besides, I'm way better than I used to be. Damon's been teaching me-."_

"_Is_ that_ what this is about?" Alaric asked, groaning as he dragged a hand over his face. "Elena, you don't have to…This is_ your_ house, okay, you don't have to answer to me about who you have spend the night."_

"_Spend the night," Elena frowned. "What are you..."_

"_I'm talking about Damon," he said, holding up the mug and gesturing toward the plate piled high with muffins. "You don't need to butter me up with coffee and breakfast and…mowing the lawn just to distract me from Damon's walk of shame. I mean, come on, isn't it a little late for that? You two have been together for almost a year and he was coming and going whenever he wanted to long before then anyway." _

"_You thought that…oh, my god," Elena closed her eyes, covering her face with her hand as she giggled. "Ric, this has nothing to do with Damon." _

"_It…doesn't?" _

"_No," she replied firmly, taking him by the arm and opening the front door before escorting him outside to the deck chairs on the porch. Placing the plate of muffins on the circular bistro table, she ordered. "Now, sit, relax and enjoy your coffee."_

"_But-."_

"_No buts," she said, waving a finger at him as she backed across the porch. "Relax." _

"_How the hell am I supposed to do that?" he muttered, taking a sip of his coffee as he watched Jeremy suspiciously. Something was up. Elena and Jeremy weren't lazy, but they were busy, even with school out for the summer. Alaric had taken it upon himself to do the little things around the house that generally slipped through the cracks – tightening the loose hinges on the screen door, fixing the leaking faucet in the guest bathroom, replacing the light bulb in the front hall closet…_

…_mowing the lawn._

_Neither Gilbert sibling had asked him to do those things, but it had made him feel like an actual member of the household, rather than the guest who didn't know when to leave. The three of them – and Damon, although the vampire would have chugged a gallon of vervaine before he'd admit it – had created an odd little family that was turning out to be everything Alaric had ever wanted. _

_At the moment, however, he didn't trust any of them as far as he could throw them. _

They are definitely up to something,_ he decided, finishing his coffee and heading toward the door for a refill. Elena met him as he crossed the threshold, coffee pot in hand and a firm reminder to_ enjoy the morning_ on her lips before she closed the door. In his face. Stunned and confused, he returned to his chair and picked up a muffin, idly picking out blueberries as Jeremy finished the lawn in record time. _

_Finishing his second cup, Alaric rose slowly from the chair, silently making his way across the wooden porch in an attempt at stealth. He eased open the front door, pleased that the well-oiled hinges allowed it to swing quietly as he slipped inside of the house. The door to the kitchen was closed – an unusual occurrence – and he recognized Elena and Jeremy's hushed voices emanating from within. _

_Drawing closer, he strained to catch their words, but the door flew open before he had a chance and Jeremy entered the hallway. "Ric!" he exclaimed with a joviality that was even more suspicious than Elena's innocent act. "Just the guy I was looking for. Got any plans today?"_

"_Well, I-." _

"_Awesome," the younger man replied, turning him around before he could catch more than a glimpse of Elena standing at the kitchen counter with her cell phone pressed to her ear and a collection of cook books spread out on the island. Ushering him back through the open front door, Jeremy continued. "You know how you've been wanting me to help you go through all of that Founders crap that my parents put in storage?" _

_Alaric eyed the boy dubiously as he was escorted toward his own car. "Yeah."_

"_Well, today's your lucky day," Jeremy announced, opening the passenger door and waving Alaric into the SUV. "Let's go." _

_Alaric shook his head as Jeremy closed the door and quickly ran around to the other side of the vehicle. As the younger man adjusted the mirrors and the driver's seat to his liking, Alaric studied him. "Jeremy, what the hell is going on?"_

"_What do you mean?"_

"_Exactly what I said," Alaric explained, reaching across the center console and putting a hand over the ignition. Jeremy met his gaze, the picture of innocence not fooling Alaric one bit. "First, you get up early to mow the lawn, then Elena makes me breakfast and orders me to relax and now you're_ offering_ to go to the storage unit and sift through – as you once put it – one hundred and fifty year old garbage? How dumb do you think I am?"_

"_Well," Jeremy said, pretending to consider. _

"_Seriously, Jer," Alaric pressed, his confusion bordering on irritation. _

"_I'm kidding!" he insisted, closing his hand into a fist around the keys and leaning back in his seat. "Look, Ric, there's nothing going on. I promise, okay? Today just felt like a good day to get things done." _

"_What's so special about today?" he asked, reluctantly pulling his hand away as it became clear that Jeremy wouldn't be offering him any other explanation. _

_Smirking, Jeremy slid the key into the ignition and brought the SUV to life. Shifting gears, he began backing down the driveway as he shrugged and said. "Nothing."_

_Making amiable small talk as they drove across town to Mystic Fall's storage facility, Alaric set his suspicions aside. He really was excited to go through Grayson Gilbert's collection of historical documents. He'd picked through them over the past couple of years when the need arose, but he'd never had a chance to really study everything. _

_The storage units were little more than rows of pre-fabricated tin sheds – secure, but sweltering and dusty under the midday summer sun. Within twenty minutes he and Jeremy were covered in dirt and sweat, but Alaric hardly noticed. He was in his element. Together, they went through box after box of journals, ledgers and property deeds from the early days of Mystic Falls. There were boxes full of supernatural talismans and spell books, too, not to mention a nice sized collection of plain wooden stakes that – judging from the stale scent emanating from within the box – had once been soaked in vervaine. _

"_Guess it's a good thing I didn't ask Damon to help out," Alaric said, tossing the stakes toward a pile of trash near the open doorway. Opening the next box, he sifted through a collection of sawmill reports from the 1890s for a few minutes before noticing that Jeremy had stopped working and was staring at the stakes. "Something wrong, Jer?" _

_The boy started guiltily, sliding his gaze toward Alaric as he fiddled with his eternity ring. "It's nothing…I just sometimes wonder what my dad would say about…well, about everything that's happened," Jeremy replied with a shrug. _

"_Everything that's happened?" Alaric repeated, wiping sweat from his brow with the hem of his shirt. "You mean-."_

"_I mean that I'm hardly living up to the family legacy," Jeremy said with another shrug, letting his arms fall to his sides. "My first girlfriend turned into a vampire, my second_ was_ a vampire. Elena's practically married to a vampire…I mean, we're not just turning our backs on my dad's work, we're doing the exact opposite and giving it the finger." _

_Alaric nodded in acknowledgement. "Tell me about it. I devoted my life to hunting vampires and now I've hung up my stakes and become best friends with the guy who turned my wife." _

"_Yeah, how did_ that_ happen?" Jeremy laughed. _

"_It defies reason," he admitted. Nearly two years had passed since he'd arrived in Mystic Falls and met Damon Salvatore and he_ still_ questioned how they'd become friends. There were times when he felt like a traitor and a failure for having allowed Damon, a monster that preyed on humans, to live when he should have driven a stake through his heart. The he'd think of Isobel and how Damon had merely been the means by which his wife had achieved her goal of immortality. He'd remember the number of times Damon had risen to the challenge and saved all of their lives or the single-minded purpose with which he'd gone after Stefan a year ago – determined to save his brother even at the expense of his own potential happiness. Alaric would think of Elena and how much she loved him, how he'd never seen her happier than in the past year she'd spent with Damon. _

_Damon wasn't a saint, but he was just as human as the rest of them. _

"_Look, Jeremy," Alaric began, understanding the conflicting emotions the boy was experiencing. "I can't speak for your father, but I've come to realize that it's not as simple as vampires are evil and humans are good. It's not that black and white. I don't think you should feel guilty for being able to see that." _

_Alaric let the comment hang in the air for a moment before turning back to his work. A few minutes later, he saw Jeremy nod his head, a small smile on his lips before he resumed their task in companionable silence. _

_The sun was high overhead when they emerged from the storage unit, each carrying a large crate full of treasures that Alaric intended to make his summer project. The drive back to the Gilbert house was uneventful and as soon as Jeremy had deposited his crate in Alaric's room, he disappeared. _

_Choosing a journal at random, Alaric indulged in his curiosity for awhile, reading about the mundane minutes of a series of Council meetings from November of 1875. There was no mention of any current vampire activity, but he found a few references to the events of 1864. _

_The scent of food – something spicy and Italian – pulled him out of his scholarly pursuits and he started in surprise to see that nearly two hours had passed. His stomach growled as he realized he hadn't eaten since breakfast. Thinking little else of it, Alaric set the journal aside and headed for the bathroom to shower off the dust and grime of the storage locker. _

_Twenty minutes later, he emerged from his bedroom, pulling a clean T-shirt over his damp hair as he headed for the stairs. The aromas from the kitchen were stronger, making his mouth water in anticipation. _

I hope Elena ordered in.

"_Thank you," Elena said quietly, her voice carrying up from the entryway and stopping Alaric short at the top of the stairs. _

"_Anytime," Damon replied as Alaric peered over the railing. They were standing in the open doorway, Damon leaning against the doorframe, his hands on Elena's hips as she stood between his legs. Curling her fingers into the fabric of his shirt, she pressed a kiss to his lips. "I'll just keep adding it to the list of favors you owe me." _

"_Oh, and here I thought you were helping me out of the goodness of your heart," she teased. _

"_Goodness of my heart?" Damon scoffed, pulling her closer until their faces were almost touching. "Have you met me?" _

"_I'll see you later," she replied, rolling her eyes as she kissed him again and began the process of extricating herself from his grip and shoving him out of the door. _

"_Hey, don't forget the-."_

"_It's in the pantry, right?" she asked, holding onto his hand as he backed away. _

"_Yeah," he confirmed as Elena released his fingers. Closing the door, she turned around and leaned against it for a moment, her smile bright enough to light a city._ He really makes her happy, _Alaric thought, hanging back until she disappeared into the kitchen. The fact didn't surprise him – he'd seen Damon and Elena together enough during the past year – but sometimes he still marveled over the effect they had on one another. _

"_What are you doing?" Jeremy asked, startling Alaric and pulling him out of his thoughts. _

"_Um, nothing," he replied. _

"_Good, let's go," the younger man suggested, already halfway down the stairs. "Dinner's ready."_

Dinner?_ Alaric frowned, following Jeremy's lead. The delicious aroma emanating from the first floor had clued him in to the fact that there was food to be had, but he hadn't considered the idea that they'd be eating together. Usually, they each fended for themselves, grabbing whatever they could pull together and eating in front of the television or – in Jeremy's case – in front of the computer. His suspicions from earlier that day returned as he watched Jeremy duck through the closed door and into the kitchen. _

_He couldn't remember the last time that door had been closed and now that he thought about it, he realized that it had been shut all day. _

"_Okay, guys, seriously, _what_ is going…on?" he asked, trailing off as he pushed through the door and discovered the dining room table set for a feast – spaghetti with three different sauces, steak, mashed potatoes, garlic bread, asparagus, and what looked like the most mouth-watering homemade pizza he'd ever seen - were spread across a clean, white table cloth. Raising a brow at the collection of what he suddenly realized were his favorite foods, he asked. "Are we having company?"_

_Standing at the head of the table, Elena finished carefully pouring red wine into a glass before she looked up and smiled at him. "Nope. Just the three of us."_

"_Okay," he replied cautiously, entering the room and eyeing the table. Elena had pulled out what he could only assume was her mother's china and good silverware for the mysterious occasion. As he made his way around to the head of the table, he noticed an open bottle of his favorite beer in addition to the wine in front of his plate. _

"_I'm starving," Jeremy announced, claiming a seat on the right hand side of the table and reaching for a bowl. Elena slapped his hand away before he could dig in._

"_Manners, Jer," she scolded before turning to Alaric with that same maddening, mischievous grin she'd been wearing all day. Gesturing toward the chair at the head of the table, she added. "Have a seat, Ric." _

_Warily, he did as he was told while Elena bustled around the kitchen for a few more minutes and Jeremy impatiently rolled his eyes. Finally, she placed a bottle of Johnny Walker Blue in the middle of Alaric's plate and took a seat on his left. _

_He stared, dumbfounded at the rare bottle of liquor for a few moments before lifting his head and meeting the smug, self-satisfied gazes of the Gilbert siblings. "Okay, I've played along all day, but this…" He held up the bottle and used it to point at each of them. "This is a really expensive bottle of whiskey and I want to know what's going on."_

_Elena glanced at Jeremy before asking. "Do you know what today is?" _

"_Sunday?"_

"_Yeah, but it's a special Sunday," Jeremy explained as Elena self-consciously adjusted her place setting. The younger man shrugged, trying to play it cool, but he couldn't quite look Alaric in the eye. "It's Father's Day." _

_Forgetting to breathe, Alaric froze, staring at the two siblings as he slowly sat back in his chair_. Father's Day,_ he thought as he took in the spread of food that must have taken Elena all day to prepare. They'd done all of this – the lawn, the breakfast, the storage locker – for_ him_. For Father's Day. _

"_We know that you didn't sign up for any of this," Elena said, her voice rough and her eyes full of tears. "And that you didn't have to stay after Jenna…" Wiping an errant tear from her cheek, she swallowed and lifted her head, smiling brightly. "But you did. This past year has been the best we've had in a long time and that's not just because nothing is trying to kill us." _

"_Yeah, it's because of you," Jeremy supplied as Elena took a breath and reached for her wine. "We've been trying to come up with a good way to say thank you. Today seemed like the right day for it."_

_Overcome with emotion and at a loss for words, Alaric shook his head, staring at the bottle of Johnny Walked still clutched in his hand. There had been a time, years ago with Isobel, that he'd thought about family and Father's Days and teaching his children to read and ride a bike and all of the other things that fathers did, but that dream had died with his marriage and he thought he'd let it go. _

_The lump in his throat and vise around his heart was a testament to the fact that Jenna – and Jeremy and Elena – had brought it back to life without him even knowing. _

_Reverently, he placed the bottle of whiskey on the table and reached for his beer. Taking a long pull, he cleared his throat and gestured toward the table. "You did all of this?"_

"_Don't worry," Elena said, laughing through her tears. "Damon helped, although I will have you know that I made the muffins all by myself. He says he draws the line at baking." Tentatively, she reached for his hand, curling her fingers around his and squeezing. "I know you think that we've done you a favor by letting you stay here, but really, it's the other way around. We're old enough that we could have done this alone, but you made it so we didn't have to." She paused, her eyes turning to Jeremy before meeting his astonished gaze. "Thank you for being our family." _

"_You're…," Alaric stopped, looking down at their joined hands as the lump in his throat made it impossible to speak. Shaking his head, he managed a small smile as he squeezed Elena's hand in return before whispering. "You're welcome. It's been an honor."_

_Elena's face nearly split in two with the brilliance of her smile. Triumphantly, she turned it on Jeremy, who couldn't help but return it, despite the way he sighed and shifted uncomfortably. "Can we eat now?" he finally asked. "I'm starving."_

* * *

_Some fucking parental figure I turned out to be, _Alaric thought, finishing his whiskey and immediately pouring another. A parent's job was to keep his kids safe. It didn't matter that Jeremy and Elena were more like his younger siblings, they'd still looked to him for guidance and direction. They'd trusted his help when they hadn't been able to find their way alone.

_I failed_, he thought as he turned his attention to the sofa where the girl he'd come to think of as his family lay lifeless and broken. _Jesus Christ…Elena. _

A new thought fought its way to the surface, raw and pure in its sense of injustice.

How the fuck had Damon let this happen?

Elena wasn't supposed to die. Damon was supposed to protect her, to keep her alive in the face of _any_ threat. Alaric had counted on him to do that, to help him honor the promise he'd made to Jenna's memory - to protect and look out for Jeremy and Elena as long as there was breath in his body to do so.

And maybe even after that.

Remembering the conversation he'd had with Damon before he and Elena had moved to Atlanta, Alaric wanted to be angry. He wanted to call the vampire and demand to know why he hadn't done better for the woman he claimed to love. He wanted to hate Damon for being weak and needing Elena too much to let her go so that she could live a normal, human life where she'd never have to worry about supernatural beings throwing her off of cliffs. Alaric wanted to know why Damon had failed and why he hadn't been the one to bring Elena home.

But he wasn't angry and he couldn't hate Damon. Wherever the vampire was, Alaric knew that no one hated himself as much as Damon did at that very moment.

He also knew that, even two years ago in that bar, with his attempted intervention, that it'd been too little, too late. Damon would never have been able to end things with Elena. Maybe he'd thought about it, maybe he'd even tried to go through with it, but in the end _Elena _wouldn't have allowed it. They'd already been in too deep, their lives too entwined to even think about not being together.

Elena had loved Damon too much to let him go.

And staring at Elena's broken body, he knew that Damon was just as ruined.

"I want to be there," Jeremy insisted, pulling Alaric out of his introspection with the raw emotion in his voice. "I want to be there when Damon rips Landis apart."

"Jeremy," Stefan cautioned, watching the boy warily. "Elena wouldn't want-."

"Elena's dead," he snapped, silencing any further protest. Alaric took another drink as the blunt words hit him with a fresh wave of grief. How was Jeremy going to survive this? The last of his family was lying dead on the couch less than ten feet away. All of the surrogate parental figures in the world wouldn't be able to fill that void.

_How the hell are _any _of us going to survive this? _Alaric wondered, taking in the shell-shocked faces of those in the room. Keeping Elena alive had been their touchstone, the common purpose that had united them and brought them together.

What would keep them together now?

"Oh…my god," Caroline gasped suddenly, her surprised exclamation echoing through the living room like an explosion after Stefan's subdued recap of Elena's final moments. All eyes, including Alaric's automatically turned toward the stunned blonde. Tears stained her pale cheeks, but her eyes were wide and clear as she took in each of their questioning gazes and announced. "She's not dead."

Silence stretched out for a full ten seconds before Jeremy looked at Bonnie, then Alaric, wild confusion written plainly on his features. Addressing Caroline, he demanded. "What?"

"Caroline," Stefan began, his face creased with fresh concern as he returned to the couch. "Elena's gone, I checked."

"You're wrong," she insisted, grabbing his hand and pulling him to his knees. She shoved his head down until his ear was hovering less than an inch above Elena's unmoving chest, she commanded. "Listen."

Alaric gripped his glass so tightly his hand ached as Tyler stepped forward. "Caroline, what-?"

"Shut up," she insisted, glaring at her boyfriend in warning. Alaric watched the events unfold, feeling as if he was in some kind of dream. He couldn't comprehend what was happening. He hadn't even had time to fully accept the magnitude of Elena's death and now…now Caroline was saying she _wasn't _dead. _What the hell is going on?_

"Son of a bitch," Stefan muttered after a few long moments, straightening up and sinking back on his heels.

"What?" Jeremy asked as Alaric realized he'd been holding his breath. "What is it?"

"Elena's not dead," Caroline repeated, her expression slowly morphing from shock to tentative joy. Alaric frowned, staring at Elena's body. All of that blood? All of those broken bones? How could she possibly _not _be…

_Oh. Fuck, _he thought, losing his grip on his glass of whiskey as understanding dawned. The glass hit the floor with a dull thud, spilling its contents onto the carpet, a fact that Alaric barely registered.

Elena _wasn't _dead. Not anymore.

"She's in transition," Caroline announced to the stunned group. "Elena's-."

"Going to be a vampire," Stefan finished in dazed wonder.

The suffocating silence that followed rendered Alaric speechless as he looked at the others, noting their almost comical expressions of shock and confusion. Clearing his throat once, then twice, he finally found his voice, rough with grief and awe, and said the first thing that popped into his head. "Someone needs to call Damon."


	13. Hard Landing

_AN: Wow. So, I got more replies for the last chapter than any other. That's awesome, thank you - especially since this chapter is just as crazy long as the last one. LOL And it makes me feel like a horrible wench for taking two weeks to post chapter 13, but I needed the time to get it right and get a little bit ahead again in my writing. With luck, I'll be able to get right back on my roughly weekly updating schedule. _

_My beta has once again outdone herself in helping me come up with fabulous flashback's for you. She's awesome! Enjoy the chapter and let me know what you think!_

Chapter Thirteen – Hard Landing

Speechless with relief, Caroline closed her eyes, ignoring everyone else as she held Elena's hand and listened to the faint but steady beating of her friend's heart. _It's going to be okay, _she thought as the tightness in her chest and the sick feeling in the pit of her stomach faded. The circumstances surrounding Elena's death and the how of her having vampire blood in her system didn't matter. None of it mattered now. The only thing that mattered was that Elena wasn't dead.

Elena was going to wake up and everything was going to be okay.

"Transition?" Bonnie frowned, her voice and sudden proximity pulling Caroline out of her thoughts as she knelt beside her and stared at Elena's unmoving body. "How is that possible?"

Caroline shrugged, failing to see how it mattered. "Damon must have-."

"It wasn't Damon," Bonnie insisted, reaching for Elena's hand and holding her fingers against her pulse point. "He tried, but she-she was already dead."

"Landis," Stefan stated, staring at Elena with something close to wonder. "It had to have been him. That's the only explanation."

"Why? Why would he have fed her blood?" Bonnie demanded, releasing Elena's wrist and placing her fingers just below her jaw in frustration. "I felt _nothing _in that clearing, no life force, nothing. How can she be in transition? I would have known-."

"Maybe you're not as powerful as you thought," Tyler suggested bluntly, automatically siding with Caroline.

"What difference does it make?" Caroline repeated, flashing her boyfriend a grateful smile before frowning at Bonnie. "It doesn't matter how it happened, the point is, Elena's going to wake up. Everything's going to be okay."

"Except that Damon doesn't know," Alaric reminded them, deep lines of concern etched across his face.

"I'm with Bonnie," Jeremy finally spoke up, glaring at Caroline with red-rimmed eyes. "I don't believe it."

Bristling at the younger man's doubt, Caroline snapped. "Her heart is beating, Jeremy. Elena's going to be fine."

"But she doesn't have a pulse, Caroline," Bonnie insisted, sinking back on her heels.

"Yeah, because she's dead," Jeremy declared, gesturing angrily at his sister. "Look at her. She's covered in blood, she's pale as hell and even I can tell that more of her bones are broken than not."

"Ease up, Jeremy," Tyler warned.

"I'm not making this up!" Caroline protested, looking toward Stefan for help. "Stefan heard it, too."

"It's true, Jeremy," Stefan said, having lost the air of defeat that had been clinging to him since he'd carried Elena's body into the house. "Elena's in transition, I heard her heartbeat."

"Then why can't Bonnie?" Jeremy demanded, glaring at Caroline and Stefan.

"Because she's human," Alaric said quietly, bending down to retrieve the glass he'd dropped on the carpet. Jeremy started, turning to him in surprise with just a hint of betrayal in his eyes. "Vampire hearts beat at a slower rate. Too slow and too quiet for humans to notice."

"Are you sure?" Jeremy asked, still unwilling to believe.

"This is stupid," Caroline huffed, rolling her eyes as she scooped Elena into her arms.

"What are you doing?" Bonnie cried, jumping to her feet.

"I'm taking Elena upstairs," she declared. "Believe me or don't, but she's going to wake up. Soon. The last thing she's going to want is a room full of people debating whether or not it's possible and talking about her like she's not freaking there."

"No," Jeremy argued. "She's my sister, if anybody is taking her anywhere, it should be me."

"You don't even believe she's going to wake up!"

"She's just taking her upstairs," Alaric said soothingly, stepping in front of the boy as he advanced on Caroline. "Let her go. Elena's going to have enough to deal with when she wakes up and…we're all a little too emotional right now to be of any use to her."

Caroline didn't wait to see if Jeremy listened to the older man. Blurring out of the room and up the stairs to Damon's bedroom, she laid Elena on the obscenely large bed before heading into the bathroom. Hunting through the cupboards and drawers, she located a washcloth and soaked it in warm water before returning to the bed.

Settling onto the mattress next to her friend, Caroline began gently wiping away the dried blood staining Elena's face and neck. Remembering her own transition, she wasn't surprised to find the skin flawless beneath the grime. The mystified doctors had dubbed Caroline's sudden recovery as nothing short of a miracle. Not only had she come back from the brink of death, she'd rallied to the point of perfect health.

_Vampire blood will do that to you, _she thought, brushing Elena's disheveled hair off of her forehead. Caroline hadn't thought to question the hows or whys of her recovery until she'd woken up on her second morning in the hospital with a lethal sensitivity to the sun and a nagging thirst that she hadn't been able to quench.

Turning had been a painful, double-edged sword for Caroline. On the one hand, she'd survived the accident, saving everyone she loved from the grief of losing a friend. On the other, she'd died and become human on the surface, but distinctly _other _underneath. Over a year had passed before she'd completely come to terms with it.

_What would it have been like to _know_? _Caroline wondered, sitting back and studying her friend's pale features. To consume the vampire blood and face death with the defiant knowledge that he wouldn't win. Judging by the looks she'd seen, everyone downstairs considered Elena's impending vampirism as just two steps shy of a tragedy.

Caroline knew better. She knew it was what Elena had been planning all along.

* * *

_Smiling sweetly, Caroline ignored the flutter of nerves in her stomach as she pulled the blond haired, brown-eyed college boy closer by the open flaps of his short sleeved shirt. Wearing flip-flops, khaki shorts and a wife-beater beneath the lightweight Hawaiian shirt, he looked like a million other spring-breakers roaming the beaches and bars of Costa Rica - a little sunburned, a lot drunk and completely unaware that he was about to become a vampire's latest victim. _

"_Just close your eyes," she said, holding his gaze and pushing a little compulsion at him. _You can do this, Forbes_, she thought, her mouth watering at the promise of what was to come. _Just be careful_. She'd guided him into the deep shadows beneath a stand of palm trees next to the cantina where she'd found him with one goal in mind - his blood. The boy's eyes drifted shut as she let the heat surge around her eyes and her fangs descend. Bending her head toward his neck, she nearly whimpered with desire as she breathed in the metallic tang of his blood beneath the scent of cologne, sweat and cheap beer. "I promise I'll be gentle." _

_She closed her eyes, cradling his head as she carefully sank her fangs into his flesh. Piercing a vein, she moaned as sweet, warm, _fresh_ blood flowed past her lips, over her tongue and down her throat. It had been so long since she'd fed live – so long since she'd tasted blood without the faint, medicinal aftertaste of the bagged stuff – that she nearly swooned. _

_She'd promised herself she'd be neat and quick, but as the boy's arms tightened around her and the blood continued to fill her mouth, sating the thirst in a way no blood bag ever could, she clutched him tighter and drank deeper. _God, this is amazing.

_Blood escaped the seal of her lips, dribbling down her chin, and the sticky sensation was enough to remind her to slow down and be careful. She didn't want to accidentally rip out the poor boy's throat. As if he knew how close he'd come to serious damage, the boy whimpered in her arms, his grip slackening as his pulse weakened._

Shit, time to let go,_ she thought with regret, knowing that if she indulged for much longer she'd end up with a body on her hands. Taking a final, sweet pull, she gently eased her fangs out of his neck, catching the blood that oozed out with her tongue. Trying not to think about the remaining blood still running through his veins, she held the anonymous boy up as she bit into her wrist and pressed it to his slack mouth. _

"_Drink," she commanded as his eyelids fluttered and she caught his gaze. He did as she compelled, weakly at first until her vampire blood began to take effect and his strength started to return. Seconds later, the wounds on his neck began to heal and she pulled her wrist away. "Okay, that's enough." _

_The boy licked his lips, staring at her in wonder. "Who are you?"_

_Caroline smiled. "I'm just a girl," she replied, using compulsion to wipe his memory. "That you're going to forget you ever met. Now, turn around and go back to your friends." _

_He stared at her for another long moment before acting on her order and stumbling through the sand toward the cantina. Sagging back against the closest palm tree, she drew a deep breath as she felt the fresh blood race through her veins. She enjoyed the sensation, knowing it wouldn't last for long as she took a deep breath. It never lasted long enough. A gentle breeze blew in from the ocean, carrying with it the scent of saltwater, coconuts and burning wood from a bonfire down the beach. _

_It also carried another scent, something human and familiar. _

"_Oh, my god," Caroline gasped, opening her eyes and pushing away from the tree in shock as she peered into the shadows. "Elena?"_

"_Shit," the human girl muttered in response before stepping out of the shadows of a palm tree on the far edge of the cluster. Dressed in her pajamas, Elena looked around sheepishly before waving awkwardly. "Hi, Caroline."_

"_What are you doing here?" Caroline demanded, suddenly remembering that she was still in vamp face and wearing her dinner all over her chin. Lowering her head, she tried to cover her mouth as she continued. "God, is Bonnie with you? You two were supposed to be asleep!" _

"_No, it's just me. I woke up when you were putting your shoes on," Elena admitted. "I followed you."_

"_Obviously," she snapped, retracting her fangs as the heat around her eyes faded. Scrubbing furiously at her mouth, she wiped the traces of blood on her dark denim skirt before stomping through the rough sand and grabbing Elena by the arm. Dragging her away from the cantina and in the direction of their hotel, she continued. "Come on, let's go. Damon will kill me if he finds out I let you follow me. I'm a vampire, you're not supposed to be able to do that!" _

"_So we won't tell him," Elena said calmly, tugging out of her grasp and planting her feet in the sand. "Relax, Caroline. I've lived with Damon for two years, I've learned a thing or two." _

"_Whatever," Caroline muttered, angry with her friend and furious with herself for dropping her guard and getting caught hunting. _Feeding_, she corrected herself as her stomach flipped. Elena had watched her feed on another human being. Crossing her arms, she scowled. "Can we get out of here, please?"_

"_You, ah, you missed a spot," Elena said, closing the space between them and reaching toward her mouth. Caroline made a sound of disgust, taking advantage of her vampire reflexes to step out of reach before the other girl could make contact. Using the edge of her sheer top, the vampire scrubbed at her face as the spark of embarrassment became outright humiliation. __She wasn't sure why. She'd been a vampire for nearly three years and this certainly wasn't the first time Elena had seen her feed. _Hell, she freaking_ lives _with a vampire_, she reminded herself. There was no reason to feel like she'd just been caught doing something dirty._

_Still, shame covered her like a cloud._

"_How long have you been drinking live?" Elena asked quietly, staring at Caroline with thinly veiled fascination. _

"_I'm not," she insisted, scrubbing her face so hard it hurt. "It's just…difficult to get blood bags through customs."_

"_Did you do this in Cozumel, too?" There was no judgment in Elena's tone, but Caroline couldn't help cringing as she finally stopped the brutal attack on her face and let her shirt flutter back into place. "Of course you did," Elena murmured, her brow furrowing in concern. "Why didn't you tell us?"_

_Unable to help herself, Caroline snorted. "Tell you and Bonnie that I was going out to drink blood from unsuspecting frat boys? Yeah, I can just picture that conversation," she said, kicking herself for not being more careful when she'd snuck out of their hotel room that evening. She'd thought she'd been so quiet, but obviously she'd been too focused on her thirst to notice how epically she'd failed. "Bonnie would have brain whammied me into a coma." _

"_Caroline," Elena admonished her gently. "Bonnie's your best friend. You don't have to hide from her, she wouldn't-."_

"_She _would_, Elena," Caroline insisted, crossing her arms protectively across her chest. "I love her and she's still my best friend, but you know she's not okay with this. It doesn't matter that I shouldn't have to hide or that I'm really, super careful and I haven't _hurt_ anybody, Bonnie would still look at me with that sad, judgy expression on her face. You know she would."_

_Elena said nothing as she dropped her gaze and dug her bare toe into the sand. After a moment, she asked. "What about me?" _

"_What about you?"_

"_Why didn't you tell _me_?" _

"_Because I…," Caroline trailed off, realizing that she had no good reason for not telling Elena. Years ago, after she'd first turned, Elena would have judged her right along with Bonnie, but a lot had changed since then. _Elena had changed_, Caroline thought, recalling the night they'd killed Klaus when Elena had asked for her blood. Everyone liked to talk about how much being with Elena had affected Damon, and no one - Caroline included - had paid any attention to how those three years with the vampire had affected Elena. _

_Biting her lip, Caroline lifted a shoulder in a half-hearted shrug. "I guess I was embarrassed."_

"_Why?" Elena asked. "I mean, you're just taking what you need, right? You're not leaving a trail of bodies behind." _

"_I know, it's just…an old habit," she admitted, shaking her head as she looked past Elena toward the brightly lit cantina. She saw the boy she'd fed from, laughing and drinking again with his friends, completely clueless as to what he'd been a part of. Relief coursed through her - for her prey as well as for herself - and she forced a smile to her lips. "I'm used to hiding what I am and honestly…I'm biting people and drinking their blood. I mean, you saw me, it's messy and kind of gross." _

"_It's not gross," Elena assured her, tucking her hair behind her ear as the wind tried to blow it in her face. "It's who you are. I am the _last_ person to judge you for that." _

"_Because of Damon?"_

"_Because of him," she nodded, gazing out at the ocean as she added quietly. "And because someday I…," Elena paused, sucking in a deep breath before adding in a rush. "I plan to turn." _

"_What?" Caroline shrieked, completely stunned by her friend's unexpected revelation. "You're going to become a vampire? Since when?" _

"_Will you be quiet?" Elena cried, looking over her shoulder as she stepped closer to Caroline and grabbed her arm. "You don't need to tell everyone in Costa Rica. And it didn't just happen," she insisted. "I've been thinking about it for a long time."_

"_But you've always been so against it," Caroline said, making an effort to lower her voice. "What changed?"_

_Elena hesitated, clearly searching for words, before shrugging and stating simply. "I did."_

_Caroline narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "Did Damon ask you to turn?"_

"_What? No!" she exclaimed vehemently. "He'd _never_ do that. In fact, he changes the subject so often when I bring it up that I'm sometimes afraid he doesn't _want_ me around forever."_

_Caroline snorted at the absurdity of Elena's concern. Damon would happily cut off his right arm and possibly a foot if it meant she would be around forever. "So you want to be a vampire," she said instead, testing out the words. "Why?"_

"_I…a lot of reasons," Elena replied vaguely, releasing Caroline's arm as she began walking back toward their hotel. _

"_Uh huh," Caroline replied with a knowing smirk. "I'll bet I can sum it up in one and his name is Damon Salvatore." _

"_It's not just for him," Elena insisted, unable to keep the smile from her face. "It's for me, too. So I can protect myself for once. So I can keep other people alive instead of standing in the line of fire." _

"_So you can be with the man you love forever," Caroline teased good-naturedly as Elena blushed. _

"_Okay, maybe that might have something to do with it," she admitted, coming to a sudden stop in the sand. "Maybe a lot to do with it," she added quietly. Biting her lip, Elena turned to face Caroline, naked hope etched plainly on her features. "Please don't tell me that you think I'm crazy. I know Bonnie would. I know that forever is a really long time and that I can't possibly know what the future holds, but Caroline, I do. I _know_ it. I know that what Damon and I have is real. It's forever." _

_Taken aback by Elena's impassioned speech, Caroline stared at her friend in quiet awe. It was hard for her to imagine_ wanting_ to turn, but she'd stopped lamenting her fate long ago. "Then it doesn't matter what I think or what anyone else thinks. You have to do what's right for you, Elena. What _you_ feel," she replied as Elena's eyes grew bright and a tremulous smile curved her lips. "But for the record," Caroline added, looping an arm through Elena's and beginning the trek back to the hotel once again. "As the biggest hopeless romantic on the planet, no. I don't think you're crazy. I think you're lucky. You and Damon have the kind of love that everybody wants and you get to keep it. Forever." _

* * *

Having raided Katherine's suitcase looking for something that Elena could wear, Caroline returned to Damon's room with her choices and set them at the foot of the bed. Still unconscious as she completed the transition, Caroline marveled over her quick handiwork. She'd managed to clean up most of the blood and she'd found a shirt of Damon's that looked much better on Elena than the blood-soaked white dress. Still, even though Elena looked more _herself_ than she had a few hours earlier, Caroline couldn't help but look at Elena with an overwhelming sense of pity.

_This just isn't fair, _she thought, gazing helplessly at her best friend. _Damon should be standing here, not me. _Elena had been so happy that night in Costa Rica—excited to be finally telling someone other than Damon her and uncertain as to when it would happen, but happy.

Landis had ruined everything.

A knock sounded on the door, interrupting her lamentation. Crossing the room to open it, Caroline discovered Stefan on the other side.

"How's Elena?" he asked immediately, glancing over Caroline's shoulder.

"Still unconscious," she replied. "Have you gotten a hold of Damon?"

"Not yet," he said, sighing as he glared at his phone in betrayal. "His phone goes straight to voicemail and Katherine's just rings."

"So, he still doesn't know," Caroline said, biting her lip as her brow creased with worry. "Not only is he not here for Elena, he doesn't even _know _that she needs him. Fantastic."

"Katherine will keep him from doing anything stupid," Stefan assured her.

Stupid being code for "getting himself killed". No one had said it, but Caroline knew they'd all been thinking it. If Damon didn't find out about Elena soon, Katherine was going to have her work cut out for her.

"Bonnie's working on some spells to find Landis," he said, abruptly changing the subject. "I don't think they're going to work, but they're keeping Jeremy occupied, which is good."

"So, he finally believes me?" Caroline replied, raising a brow.

"Yeah," Stefan nodded, glancing over her shoulder again toward the bed where Elena lay. Opening his mouth, he hesitated a moment before speaking. "When Elena wakes up, don't tell her that Damon doesn't know."

"What?" Caroline cried, taken aback. "You want me to lie to her?"

"She's going to have enough to deal with, Caroline," Stefan insisted. "She doesn't need to know that Damon is out there with a death wish because he thinks she's dead. Trust me. Let Elena get her bearings before we throw this at her, okay?"

"Fine," she huffed as Stefan gave her a final nod and headed back downstairs. Caroline knew he had a point. Elena had been kidnapped, tortured and killed by a psychotic vampire. She'd definitely have more than her share of crap to deal with when she opened her eyes. Worrying about Damon would only make her transition harder.

_Ugh, _Caroline thought, closing the door and resuming her pacing. _This is all just so…unfair._

* * *

Looking across the clearing, Elena felt like her heart was going to burst out of her chest. Landis held her arm in a punishing grip, cutting off the circulation to her fingers, but all she could see was Damon. She blinked several times, but the sight of him – all black clothes and emanating an even blacker violence – didn't waver.

He was real.

Wincing in pain, she finally managed an audible sound, uttering his name like a prayer. "Damon."

The look of cold, hard determination on his features changed, morphing for a single instant into an expression of such intense longing and regret that she couldn't breathe around her desire to be safe in his arms.

_I'm going to be okay, _she realized, even as the fleeting expression vanished and Damon glared at her captor with a seething fury. Held in thrall by his very presence, she ignored Landis as his hold tightened to the point of excruciating pain. None of it mattered because Damon was there. He'd come for her just like she'd known he would. He'd save her.

_He always saves me. _

But then Damon's face changed yet again – this time into a mask of horror as he lunged across the clearing toward her. Frowning, Elena tried to ask what was wrong, but gravity intervened and before she could speak and she was falling away from Damon's outstretched hand.

Falling toward the jagged rocks at the bottom of the cliff.

A scream bubbled up in her throat, failing to materialize, as a single thought raced through her mind and she braced herself for the inevitable hard landing.

Death had finally caught up to her.

Gasping on impact, Elena opened her eyes, expecting to see a dark canopy of stars overhead. Instead, she was temporarily blinded by a piercingly bright white light, and she immediately closed her eyes against the pain.

_What the hell? _

"Elena!" A familiar voice cut through her disorientation before she could do more than wonder. Prying her eyes open, she squinted against the brightness as a dark wood paneled ceiling gradually came into focus. The ground – or whatever Elena was laying on – shifted as someone sat beside her. "It's about time."

"Caroline?" she croaked, her voice little more than a ruined rasp as she turned toward the sound of her friend's voice.

"Yeah, it's me," Caroline replied in a calm, soothing voice. "It's okay. You're safe."

_Safe? _Elena thought as her vision cleared enough for her to recognize the wood paneled walls, black floor-to-ceiling drapes and bedside lamp – all indicators that she was back in Damon's room in the house in Mystic Falls. She knew the room almost as well as the one she'd grown up in, having spent enough time in it with Damon to memorize every detail – every shadow, every creaky floorboard, every knot in the pine walls. Caroline was right, she _was _safe.

But the question of how she'd made it back to Mystic Falls remained.

"Where's Damon?" Elena asked, lurching to a seated position with a knot of panic tightening in her gut as she remembered the dream…remembered falling…Damon…

_A dream. It had been a dream._

_Nightmare._

_Damon isn't here._

The panic flared , and latching onto Caroline's arm, she demanded. "Where is he, Caroline?"

"He's…he's not here," she answered vaguely, peeling Elena's fingers from her arm and taking them in her hand.

"What? Why?" Elena cried, her voice shooting up an octave as her fear intensified. "What happened to him?"

"Nothing, Elena. Just breathe, okay?" Caroline ordered as she steadied her with a hand on her shoulder. "Damon's okay, he's just not here right now. Do you…do you remember what happened?"

Elena frowned, pressing a hand to her forehead as the dream replayed through her mind. "I…fell?" she asked, noticing her clothes for the first time. She was wearing one of Damon's black button-down shirts, the sleeves long enough to cover her fingertips.

"Yeah," Caroline nodded, a furrow appearing between her brows. "Yeah, you did."

"_What I want, Damon Salvatore, is for you to suffer. It'll begin with this." _

Landis's voice echoed in her head, speaking words she hadn't heard in her dream. _It wasn't a dream_, she realized with a sudden, sickening certainty. She remembered white – a white dress, covered in blood.

Her blood.

"I didn't fall," she murmured, sucking in another sharp breath as she fingered the fabric of the shirt. Images of the clearing and the cliff streaked across her mind's eye, followed by the sharp, jagged rocks and Damon's anguished expression. _It was real, _she thought with growing horror as she remembered the metallic tang of blood – vampire blood – hitting her tongue and sliding down her throat.

"_There we are. Drink up."_

"I died," she whispered, closing her eyes against the torrent of memories that slammed into her with brutal force – waking up in the motel, the crunch of breaking bones, the scent of her blood, the taste of Landis's, the burning pain as he cut her and drank from her open veins. She remembered praying for Damon, for him to arrive and save her like he had so many times before. She remembered Landis's cruel mind games, the joy and relief she'd felt when she'd thought she'd been back in Atlanta and then the crushing disappointment and humiliation when she'd realized it was all a lie.

She remembered stumbling through the woods, cutting her feet on broken twigs and buried rocks as branches slapped at her face, legs and arms. She remembered the clearing and the way Landis had dangled her over the cliff. She remembered Damon's arrival and the relief she'd felt at seeing him after nearly a week apart.

"Elena?"

"I'm fine," she lied as a wave of emotions washed over her, robbing her of breath. There was too much. Too much to think about, too much to feel. She'd been through a lot in her life, and she'd always thought that she could handle anything, but the horror and grief over what Landis had done to her - to both her and Damon - challenged that.

Opening her eyes, she cringed again as the brightness of the bedside lamp caught her off guard. Other heightened sensations assaulted her – the lingering scent of Damon's cologne on his shirt, the softness of the high thread count sheets, the sound of Caroline's shallow breathing and her own slowly beating heart.

_So, this is what it feels like, _she thought, taking refuge in a growing core of numbness at the center of her being as she withstood the onslaught of emotion. _Transition._

"I should go get Jeremy," Caroline announced, climbing off of the bed in an unsettlingly loud flurry of rustling sheets. "He made me promise that I'd let him know the second you woke up."

Elena's heart leapt to her throat, nearly choking her as a spike of panic cut through the haze. The thought of facing her brother – of facing _anybody _at that moment – terrified her. "No!"

"What?" her friend cried, stopping halfway to the door and whirling around. "No? Why?"

"I, um…I want to take a shower first," Elena stammered, throwing back the sheets and swinging her legs over the edge of the bed. Bracing herself for a wave of dizziness or pain at the sudden movement, she was surprised by her body's lack of reaction. _Oh, that's right, _she thought numbly. _Super healing. _

"Oh," Caroline replied, clearly relieved by the simple explanation. "Of-of _course_. I raided Katherine's stuff and managed to find an outfit that doesn't scream Uber Slut, so take your time. You've got all day to…"

"To what?"

Caroline bit her lip, briefly looking down at the floor before she answered. "To complete the transition."

"Oh…oh, right," Elena replied, as her eyes stung with tears that she refused to shed. She still needed to drink those few drops of human blood that would turn her into a full-fledged…_vampire_. Curling her fingers around the edge of the mattress she squeezed until it hurt. Caroline needed to leave. Now. So she could lose it without an audience.

Mercifully, as if her friend had heard her frantic thoughts, Caroline offered her one more tight-lipped smile before opening the door and slipping out into the hallway. Waiting a grand total of three seconds, Elena rushed across the room, shutting and locking the door with a flip of the latch.

Immediately, a sob bubbled up in her throat, threatening to unleash the first of many that she knew would ultimately leave her in a puddle on the floor. Fighting back against the onslaught of emotion, Elena rushed across the bedroom, fumbling with the buttons of Damon's shirt and letting it fall to the floor in the middle of the bathroom.

Throwing open the door of the glass shower, Elena stepped inside and twisted both taps. A jet of cold water hit her in the face, making her gasp, but she stayed under the spray, bracing her hands against the wall as the influx of sensations took her breath away.

_Not that I need to breathe anymore, _she thought, making a conscious effort to stop just to test the theory. For several moments Elena stood still, listening and feeling.

At first the water was wonderfully cool, giving her a sense of balance amidst the panic. _I can do this, _she thought, tilting her head as she let the water soak her hair. Damon wasn't there and it wasn't exactly how they had planned, but it would be okay. Parting her lips and drawing in a breath, she let some of the water run into her mouth in an effort to quench the thirst that had been building since she woke up.

Instantly, she tasted it, scented it in the air.

Blood.

Elena's eyes flew open, taking in the red tint to the water that was running down her body as the skin around her eyes burned with unexpected heat. There'd been blood in her hair, matting it into thick clumps and the water had liquefied and diluted it, but it was enough.

For a few seconds, Elena stood beneath the spray, paralyzed by the thirst, the _hunger _that overwhelmed all other thought.

Twin pinpricks of pain throbbed hard and sharp within her gums, making her cry out in pain as she crumpled to the floor of the shower. Clutching at the smooth glass wall, she covered her mouth with her other hand and squeezed her burning eyes shut. _I _can't_ do this, _she thought, her self-confidence shattering as she fought the tremendous thirst for blood. She wasn't ready for _this. _Not now.

Not without Damon.

* * *

_Dripping water and clumps of melted snow, Elena stomped through the door of the private chalet in St. Moritz and yanked off her sodden gloves. "I can't believe you did that."_

_Closing the door behind him, Damon snickered as he shrugged out of his_ dry_ leather jacket. "Did what?"_

"_You threw a thousand snow balls at me and then dumped me in a snow bank," she accused, struggling with the zipper of her thick down jacket. She huffed as her frozen fingers refused to cooperate and dropped her arms to her sides. Glaring at Damon, she repeated. "I can't_ believe_ you did that."_

"_Hey, you started it," he replied, holding up his hands as he made his way to the fireplace. Throwing another log onto the dying embers, he stoked the fire back to life. "You should have known I'd retaliate."_

"_I threw one snowball and it hit your_ shoulder_," she protested, blinking water out of her eyes as she kicked out of her boots, nearly falling onto the floor in the process. "You're supposed to let your girlfriend win."_

"_You know me better than that," he replied, raising a brow as he disappeared into the bathroom. Reappearing with a towel a moment later, he put it over her head, blinding her as he made quick work of her zipper. "I don't lose. Not even to you."_

_His lips touched hers in a brief kiss and by the time Elena had pushed the towel out of her eyes, Damon was on the other side of the room, taking in the view. "You're an ass," she scowled, trying to keep a straight face as she mopped the excess water out of her hair. _

"_You knew that the day you met me," he replied, flashing a smirk that completely ruined her façade of irritation._

"_Yes, well, today you were an even bigger ass than usual and it should be noted for the record," she sniffed airily, throwing the towel aside before shrugging out of her still dripping jacket. The navy blue sweater she'd been wearing underneath was soaked as well, and struggling out of that earned her a mouthful of damp fuzz for her efforts. Abandoning both items by her feet on the off chance it would offend Damon's neat freak tendencies, she made her way to the dresser in her black bra and soggy jeans with as much dignity as she could muster considering she felt like a drowned rat. _

_The weight of Damon's appreciative gaze on her bare skin did wonders for her ego._ Drowned rat or not, I can still turn him on,_ she thought, formulating a new plan of attack as she took her time digging through his clothes. Tossing one of his T-shirts on the nearby king-sized bed, she turned her back on him and slowly shimmied out of her jeans – a task that proved a hell of lot more difficult than she'd expected considering they were wet and sticking to her skin._

"_So, why St. Moritz?" she asked, glancing over her shoulder and smiling at the way he started and dragged his gaze away from her practically naked ass to look her in the eye._

"_Huh?"_

"_St. Moritz," she repeated, grabbing his T-shirt and making a show of shaking out the non-existent wrinkles while she continued to stand there in her underwear. "I made you pick our vacation spot this time and you picked Switzerland. In January. How come?" _

_Chuckling, he glanced out of the window once more before making his way to her side. "What's wrong, Elena? Can't handle the cold?" _

"_I can handle the cold," she assured him, raising a brow as she abandoned the T-shirt and opened another drawer. Retrieving a skimpy white bikini – that she knew looked amazing on her – she placed a hand on her hip and dangled it from her finger, taunting him with it. "Can you handle missing out on _me_ in _this_?"_

"_Who says you can't wear that here?" he challenged, trying to wrap an arm around her bare waist, but she backed out of his reach. _

"_In the snow?" she replied indignantly, still backing away even though she knew he had her trapped. _

"_There's a hot tub on the veranda," he said, catching her easily and tugging her against him. His mouth was on hers before she could speak. _

"_Not a chance," she vowed between kisses as the warmth from the fire and the heat of his body warmed her still chilled limbs. Standing on her toes, she let the bikini fall to the floor, threading her fingers through his hair and pulling him closer to deepen the kiss. _

"_Naked works, too," he countered, guiding her toward the bed as his hands freely roamed her body. Elena moaned in appreciation as he turned his attention to her jaw, working his way up to nibble at her earlobe before his lips traveled down her neck. This was heaven. Forget the fact that it was below freezing outside and her hair would be a tangled, frizzy mess by morning, St. Moritz and their private chalet had just become her new favorite vacation spot. _

_The backs of her knees hit the bed, jarring her out of her reverie enough to remind her that she was supposed to be mad at him for dunking her upside down in a snow bank. "No," she gasped, twisting out of his grasp and snagging his T-shirt off of the bed before running around it to the relative safety of the other side. "No, you don't get to distract me with sex. Answer the question."_

"_There was a question?" he asked, bracing his fists on the mattress._

"_Ha ha," she replied, making a face at him before pulling the T-shirt over her head. Mimicking his pose, she leaned on the bed and repeated the question. "Why St. Moritz?" _

_Damon eyed her silently with an inscrutable gaze for a long moment before pushing away from the bed. "It's somewhere I always wanted to go," he replied with forced nonchalance. "When I was human." _

_Taken aback, Elena somehow managed to keep her jaw from hitting the floor. Human? Damon_ never_ talked about his past, especially his _human_ past. Shocked and a little giddy at the chance to learn more about the man she loved before he'd turned, she kept silent, waiting for him to continue. _

"_Right before I left for the war, some friends of my father's came by the house with souvenirs from their oldest son's wedding trip in Europe," he explained, turning his gaze toward the fire as he made his way to the overstuffed loveseat in front of it. The living space of the chalet was huge, separated into areas by the artful arrangement of the furniture. Claiming a seat in front of the roaring flames, Damon continued. "He had a stack of these beautiful picture postcards of snow covered mountains, horse-drawn buggies that traveled on sleds instead of wheels, people skiing."_

"_Skiing?" Elena asked, following his path and curling her legs beneath her as she settled next to him on the couch. ""Why was that special?" _

"_Skiing for fun, hell the whole of idea of going to a snowy climate for a vacation, was brand new back then," he countered dryly, glancing at her out of the corner of her eye. "I was…awestruck. I'd never seen anything like it. It certainly wasn't like winter in Virginia," he said with a snort. Utterly mesmerized, Elena studied his profile as he gazed into the leaping flames. "I never forgot about it. When I got back from the war, I met Katherine and decided that I'd take her with me."_

_Instantly, the spell broke and, feeling like she'd been dumped in yet another snow bank, Elena reeled back. "You brought me to a place you wanted to take _Katherine_?" she demanded, unable to mask her indignation. She had no illusions about Damon's love for her doppelganger. It had been real and powerful and had probably given him a reason to live long enough to cross her path four years ago, so she accepted it, was even grateful for it in an odd, roundabout way._

_But that didn't mean she had to _like_ it. _

"_I brought you here," Damon said, catching her wrist and pulling her back to the couch as she tried to storm away. "Because I wanted to be here, to share it with someone that I loved," he explained, holding her in place with the strength of his grip and the weight of his gaze. "In 1864, that person was Katherine," he replied, meeting her eye without apology. "And besides, I never made it here anyway." _

"_Why not?" she asked quietly._

"_I died. Became a vampire," he replied, cocking his head in that way he had that she found compelling and disconcerting in equal measure. "And my dreams changed. Actually," he amended. "I gave up on all of them. Transition will do that to you." _

_Elena shivered as a chill swept over her body and made her forget her irritation. Curling her legs beneath her body once again, she shifted closer until her knees touched Damon's thigh. "That's what transition does? Makes you give up on your dreams and who you are?" _

_For a long moment, Damon said nothing as he stared silently into the flames. Settling her arm on the loveseat behind his head, she threaded her fingers though his hair. "Damon?"_

"_It wasn't the transition," he admitted, settling his hand on her bare thigh. "It was the bitterness, the loneliness. The way I felt so removed from humanity even when I was surrounded by it. Katherine was dead, Stefan was waffling between Ripper and Saint, too obnoxious to be around either way. It was either give up on it all or let it crush me. Took me about fifty years, but I eventually figured it out."_

_Fighting tears, Elena stared at him after he fell silent again. She'd known for a long time what had happened the night Damon and Stefan had died and turned into vampires, but she'd never asked Damon for details. She'd never even asked him how he felt about it, having assumed that he didn't want to discuss it. Pressing a kiss to his temple, she leaned her forehead against him and murmured. "I'm sorry." _

"_What?" he replied, jerking away as if she'd startled him. Meeting her gaze with clear eyes, he frowned slightly. "Why are you sorry?"_

_Licking her lips, she stammered in confusion. "I-I'm sorry that you…that you had to go through that. It sounds awful." _

"_It was," he agreed, brushing her hair behind her ear before cupping her cheek. "But I'm not sorry."_

"_How can you say that?"_

"_I told you," he insisted, light shining from his clear blue eyes even though his expression was serious. "If I had chosen differently - if _anybody_ had chosen differently - I wouldn't have met you." _

_For several seconds, Elena couldn't speak as the tears she'd been fighting ran down her cheeks. She remembered those words, of course. She remembered everything about the night Damon had lain dying in her arms from Tyler's accidental bite. His confession had been sweet and beautiful, but at the time she'd attributed it to Damon being _Damon_. Smooth compliments and pretty words until the end – the truth, but also a carefully constructed set of armor he wore as protection. _

_Over the next few months she'd learned that she'd been both right…and utterly wrong. His deathbed confession of love had been Damon at his poetic best, but it hadn't been armor, it had been his soul laid bare in a way he _only_ did for her. Swallowing thickly, she murmured. "So you never came here?"_

"_No, I did," he answered, wiping the tears from her cheeks before wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her into his lap. "I came over in '28 for the Olympics, but it was pointless."_

"_Why?" she asked, sniffing back the tears as she wrapped her arms loosely around his shoulders. _

"_Because I was alone with all of that bitterness and anger," he admitted. "I swore I'd never come back." _

"_And yet, here you are," she pointed out. _

"_Yeah, well…I finally found someone who was worthy of those postcards," Damon replied, leaning into her touch as she ran her fingers through his hair. Touching her lips to his, Elena eased into the kiss as the familiar butterflies fluttered in her stomach. No matter how many times it happened, Damon's kiss always took her breath away. This crazy, ridiculous man who threw her into snow banks and then broke her heart with unexpected confessions about his turbulent past made her melt every time he touched her. _

_Scooping her into his arms, Damon carried her across the room and laid her down on the bed, all without breaking the kiss. Piece by piece, they undressed each other before making love until Elena's body buzzed and she was too tired to move. _

_Gazing sleepily at the dying embers, Elena felt Damon's lips brush her shoulder before he whispered. "It's not going to be like that for you."_

"_What's not?" she asked, reaching for his hand and tugging his arm around her. Her back was already pressed against his chest, but somehow she managed to snuggle closer as she closed her eyes in anticipation of drifting off to sleep. _

"_Transition."_

_All thoughts of slumber fled as her eyes snapped open. Craning her neck, she tried to ignore the flurry of nerves as she repeated. "Transition? What do you mean?"_

"_You won't have to go through it alone," he promised, smirking at the look of shock that was no doubt etched onto her face. "I know I've been a stubborn asshole about turning you, but I do want it, Elena. I want you with me. Forever. And when it happens, I'll be there. You're not going to lose who you are."_

_Elena's lower lip quivered as tears flooded her eyes again. Groaning, she turned away and buried her face in the pillow. "I hate you," she cried, her voice thick with tears. "Stop being sweet and making me cry."_

_Damon chuckled, a low rumble against her back, before he rolled her onto her back. Dragging the pillow with her, Elena tried to hide from him, but he pulled it out of her grasp so she covered her face with her hands. _

"_I love you," he teased, his breath tickling the sensitive skin behind her ear. _

"_Shut up," she muttered, her voice almost breaking with the weight of her wild emotions. She knew Damon loved that she wanted to turn, but the conversation was such a minefield, riddled with traps about choices and past mistakes that she rarely got to hear him say it. _

_And every once in awhile, she needed to hear it. _

_Peeking through her fingers, she opened her eyes and scowled at his amused expression. "I love you, too," she grumbled, unable to help herself. _

"_I know," he replied simply, without a hint of irony or jest, the two simple words undoing her in a way an actual 'I love you' never could. The fact that Damon loved her had never been in question. She'd known it before he'd said it that night in his room. The challenge of their relationship, the only thing she'd ever been unsure of, was whether or not he'd _believe_ that she truly loved him in return. _

_Unable to hold back her grin, Elena curled into his side as he stretched out on the mattress and drew her into his arms. Exhaustion quickly set in and the hypnotizing motion of his fingers stroking up and down her bare back pulled her toward slumber. In the final moments before she succumbed to sleep, Elena knew two things with absolute certainty. First, her relationship with Damon was indestructible. Vampires, werewolves, or hybrids, midterms, finals or obscure Bulgarian literature, as long as they were together, they'd survive. _

_Secondly, after she completed the transition and became a vampire with all of the super strength and speed, she'd dump _his_ ass upside-down in a snow bank. _

* * *

Standing naked in the middle of the dark bathroom, Elena let the water from her shower drip from her hair and run down her body to form a puddle on the floor beneath her feet. It was clear now, without a hint of the blood that had driven her to the tiled floor of the shower in a huddled, sobbing mess. She couldn't even smell it anymore.

_Damon would hate this, _she thought absently, staring at the growing puddle. Thinking his name made her ache with longing. She could smell _him - _his shampoo, his soap, even the towel in her hand smelled like him. He hadn't lived in the house for two years and his scent still clung to _everything. _She hadn't noticed it when she'd woken up, but Elena knew that when she put his shirt back on, she'd be surrounded by him. Unable to escape.

_Not that I want to, _she thought, rebelling against the mutinous thoughts that were dragging her toward anger at the man she loved. She didn't want to be mad at Damon, didn't want to hate him for being there in an assault against her senses, but not really _being _there.

_Goddammit, Damon, where are you?_

Tears burned behind her eyes and without thinking she brought the towel up to stem the flow. Instantly, Damon's scent overwhelmed her, piercing straight through her contradicting shell of numbness and hyper-sensitivity to the vulnerable, scared little girl at her core.

_It wasn't supposed to be like this, _she thought as she struggled to control her sobs. Damon was supposed to be there, helping her, _teaching _her how to handle the emotional mood swings and overwhelming sensations. He'd promised.

_I don't know how to do this alone. _

"Elena?" A soft knock and Caroline's gentle inquiry surprised her, making her jump. Lifting her head, Elena felt hot tears running down her cheeks as she looked toward the locked door. "Everything okay?"

_No. I'm falling apart and Damon isn't fucking here_, she wanted to scream. Clearing her throat instead, she licked her dry lips, doing a marvelous impression of calm as she called. "Give me a second."

Holding her breath, Elena schooled her thoughts, focusing on simple tasks. Toweling off her body, blotting the water from her hair, retrieving Damon's shirt from the floor and putting an arm through each sleeve, one at a time.

Carefully buttoning the shirt, she left the comforting darkness of the bathroom, stepping into the soft light of the bedroom. It didn't seem quite so bright anymore, which she took as a good sign. Katherine's clothes were draped over the foot of the bed - a black T-shirt with a plunging v-neck and dark blue jeans that Elena knew would fit her like a very tight glove.

Wrinkling her nose as Katherine's scent assaulted her, she passed over the shirt and grabbed the jeans. Being unable to escape Damon's scent was one thing, but there was no way that Elena wanted to smell _Katherine _with every breath. Wriggling into the jeans, she rolled her eyes as the denim hugged her curves like a second skin. Did Katherine even _own _any clothes that didn't scream sex?

Outwardly presentable at least, Elena made her way to the door, congratulating herself on going three whole minutes without fighting tears. Opening the door, however, she felt the weight of Caroline's concerned gaze punch a hole through her defenses. Her best friend's compassion opened the floodgates, making her eyes burn once again as the reality of her situation returned with a vengeance.

She'd been kidnapped, tortured and killed. That list by itself barely fazed her. Elena was sure at some point, when she wasn't crippled by the ups and downs of transition, she'd have another breakdown over what Landis had done to her, but at the moment she could only focus on the fact that Damon wasn't there when she needed him most. Succumbing to the despair and the rage, she collapsed into Caroline's arms, her body shaking with grief.

"Oh, Elena," Caroline murmured, easily supporting her weight. "I'm so sorry."

"It wasn't supposed to be like this," she gasped between sobs.

"I know," Caroline replied, her voice colored by her own tears. "I know this isn't what you and Damon had planned."

Hearing his name made something inside Elena flip, the tears drying instantly as a burning anger was yanked front and center. Pushing out of her friend's arms, she wiped the tears off of her cheeks as she stalked away. Caroline was right. This _isn't _what she and Damon had planned. Okay, so they hadn't sat around and drawn up an itinerary for the day when he finally got over himself and turned her like she'd been asking, but he was supposed to, at least, _be here. _He'd all but promised that they'd do this together, that he'd help her navigate the minefield of cravings and emotions so that she wouldn't turn into some out of control monster.

"Where is he?" she asked, surprised by the animalistic growl to her voice.

"What?" Caroline blinked in surprise. "Who?"

"_Damon,_" Elena replied, crossing her arms as she paced his room in an effort to burn through some of the furious energy racing through her veins. "You said he wasn't here, so where the hell is he?"

"Elena," the blonde vampire said, shifting uncomfortably. "Don't…don't worry about Damon. He's fine. Katherine's with him."

"_Katherine?" _Elena repeated, coming to a halt in the middle of the room as a breathtaking wave of jealousy crashed over her. The logical part of her brain recognized that the feeling was baseless, that Damon loved her and practically hated Katherine, but that didn't change the fact that he was with her goddamn doppelganger instead of with her. "Why the fuck is he with Katherine?"

"They…went after Landis," Caroline explained. "Elena, just take a breath, it's going to be okay."

"Take a breath?" she scoffed, snatching Katherine's shirt off of the bed and throwing it with surprising strength at her friend. With a start she realized she hadn't even completed the transition. _Jesus, if I'm drowning now, what will it be like when I _am _a vampire? _

Shoving the question aside in favor of embracing the rage that felt so simple and pure, Elena stalked back to stand directly in front of her friend, invading her space in a way that was so classically like Damon, she would have laughed if she hadn't been so angry. "Damon is supposed to be _here, _Caroline. With me, not with…_her. _If anyone deserves to go with him to destroy Landis it's _me. _I'm the one he kidnapped. I'm the one he killed. Why the fuck does _Katherine _get to be a part of Damon's revenge? Why is he even going after Landis now? He's a vampire. He's got forever."

"Elena-."

"Did he think he could get back before I woke up?" she asked, genuinely confused now along with being angry. The combination only fueled her rant. "How industrious of him, multi-tasking like that. No need to worry about his girlfriend who was going to wake up in transition alone and scared. He's _Damon Salvatore, _he can always find time to _kill _something."

"Damon doesn't know, Elena," Caroline said, finally managing to get a word in as Elena paused for a breath she didn't really need.

"What do you mean he doesn't know?" she sneered.

"He doesn't know that you woke up," Caroline explained. "He didn't think you would. None of us did."

A proverbial bucket of ice water crashed over Elena, dousing the flames of her rage in an instant as her heart leapt to her throat. They'd thought her dead? _All _of them? With wide eyes, she stared at Caroline, stammering. "W-what?"

"No one knew that you had Landis's blood in your system," she said gently, her expression heavy with concern. Elena saw every ounce of it as if it had been tattooed across the blonde's forehead. "No one knew you would wake up," she repeated, as Elena's gaze fell to her mouth, anticipating her friend's next words before they passed her lips. "Damon isn't here because he thinks-."

"He thinks I'm dead," Elena finished, stumbling backwards in horror until the backs of her knees hit the bed. She pressed a hand to her face, feeling numb once again. "Damon thinks I'm dead."


	14. Beyond the Pale

_AN: THANK YOU for the awesome reviews. To those who weren't signed in and the anonymous reviewers, THANK YOU as well! I say it every week, but I'm not lying. I really appreciate it. _

_This chapter shouldn't be quite so hard on your hearts. I mean, don't get me wrong, it's not all hearts and schmoopy flowers, but it's a little easier on the angst. ;p_

Chapter Fourteen - Beyond the Pale

At a crossroads just over the South Carolina border, the last light of the setting sun reflected dully off of the weather-beaten wooden siding of a roadhouse. An old Phillips 66 gas station occupied another corner, but judging from the prices on the marquee and the way the weeds were overtaking the cemented lot, it had been abandoned long ago. Pausing in the middle of the intersection, Katherine crossed her arms, silently observing the only vehicles in sight. Knowing the façade of abandonment was a deliberate ruse, she dismissed the old beat up Ford and only slightly newer Cadillac. Their presence told her nothing.

The bar had no name and, to those living within fifty miles, it was at once alluring and forbidding. Many a missing person was rumored to have last been seen within its four walls, but investigations by authorities had never born any fruit. The odd concerned family member who took matters into their own hands came away with nothing but an inexplicable certainty that whatever had happened to their loved one, it hadn't happened there.

Those who did frequent it called it simply The Crossroads.

"So, this is it," Katherine said, curling her lip in disgust at the rundown building.

"This is it," Damon replied, shoving his hands into his pockets and looking back over his shoulder. "The entrance is in the back. You coming?"

Katherine raised a mocking brow.

_Do I have a choice?_ she wondered. Not that Damon would force her to join him on his revenge mission. In fact, she was fairly certain he'd prefer it if she turned around, walked back to the copse of trees where they'd stashed the car, and waited for him like an obedient sidekick.

That wasn't going to happen, however.

Helping Damon on his quest for vengeance had started out as a promise to Stefan, because she loved him and understood that he needed his brother. That had changed somewhere along the back roads of the southeast and as she stood in front of the decrepit building in which Damon intended to seek retribution, she realized she'd made a promise to him, too. She'd do more than make sure he made it back to Mystic Falls alive…she'd see to it that Damon got his revenge as well.

She understood where the need stemmed from.

In taking on his mission of retribution, Katherine had developed a keen desire of her own to see Landis pay for what he'd done to Elena. Not on account of her annoying doppelganger, but as punishment for the suffering he'd inflicted upon Damon.

Illogical as it seemed in light of everything she'd done to him, Katherine didn't like it when _other _people put the elder Salvatore through hell.

Katherine had never loved Damon the way that he'd loved her, but she'd turned him, had had a part in making him into the man he was today. She would deny it until her last breath, but over the years, even as she'd kept close tabs on Stefan's activities, she'd also kept an eye on Damon. Not to the same extent, but she'd paid enough attention to witness his metamorphosis – from a naïve, love-struck _boy _she'd known into a ruthless and notorious vampire – with pride. She'd developed a measure of respect for him and it had been that respect that had fueled the pit-stop at the Salvatore home the night Damon had been dying to deliver Klaus's lifesaving blood.

A vampire like Damon deserved a better death than the slow agony and descent into madness brought on by a werewolf bite.

He deserved his revenge.

Of course, she hadn't told any of that to Damon. That wasn't how they operated. Katherine knew that he – like herself – allowed only _one_ person to see his vulnerability, the soft parts beneath the Teflon exterior, and it certainly wasn't her. An offer of sympathy or any other showing of sentimentality would have been ignored at best.

At worst, he'd go for her throat.

"Of course I'm coming," Katherine snapped, shaking off the uncomfortable sentimentality that had settled over her during the trip down memory lane. Leading the way, she sauntered around the side of the building, barely noticing when the pointed stiletto heels of her boots sank into the soft earth.

The only thing resembling an entrance along the back of the building was a set of weather-beaten doors leading to what, she assumed, was a root cellar. Bracing a hand on her hip, Katherine looked at Damon skeptically. "The bar is underground?"

"What were you expecting?" Damon sneered as he reached for one of the rusted metal handles. "A red carpet and velvet ropes? Help me open this."

Rolling her eyes, Katherine reached down, gripping the other handle. The doors looked so old, she half expected the handle to come off in her hands with one solid tug, but, to her surprise, it took both her and Damon's combined strength to break the locks that held it shut from the inside.

Sunlight spilled down a set of rickety steps, leading to a dusty wooden floor. Wrinkling her nose, Katherine crouched down, peering through the dust motes dancing in the sunbeams into the impenetrable darkness. "So, what will we find down there?"

"Not much," Damon replied, brushing the rust and paint chips off of his hands as he followed her gaze. "A few vampires who passed out and didn't wake up before sunrise, maybe a couple of half-dead humans," he paused before adding with a sneer. "And Gregory."

"Ah, the brother," Katherine murmured.

"He never leaves," Damon said, smirking as he held out a hand. "Ladies first."

"You're so kind," she snorted, straightening up before slowly descending the steps, letting her eyes adjust as she went. Damon hadn't been far off in his prediction – the scent of stale blood hung heavily in the air, radiating from the far corner where three vampires were slumped over on a table, two drained humans on the floor at their feet. Sconces along the walls and bare bulbs overhead cast a sickly yellow glow over the otherwise empty bar.

The brother, however, was nowhere to be seen.

"Well, you were half right," Katherine announced, staying in the safety of the pool of sunlight while she continued to scan the bar. Not that she was worried about the potential threat from a bunch of vampires in a blood stupor, but she hadn't outrun an Original for five hundred years by taking things for granted. Expecting the creek of the stairs to signal Damon's descent into the dusty depths, she waited in silence for a few moments before looking over her shoulder. "Damon?"

Standing frozen at the top of the steps, Damon visibly started at the sound of his name. Katherine's keen eyesight caught a flash of pain flit across his features before he rushed down the steps.

"Everything okay?" she asked, eyeing him suspiciously as he came to a stop at her side.

"Perfect," he assured her, the picture of nonchalance as he offered her a tight-lipped smile that didn't reach his eyes.

Shit.

* * *

_Balancing a cooler of stolen blood bags against his hip, Damon slipped his key into the lock of his apartment door and pushed it open. Instantly, Elena's soft, familiar scent alerted him to the fact that she was home from class. A half second later he saw her, sitting with her back to him at the dining room table, hunched over her laptop as she typed away at the keys. Glancing at the clock in the kitchen, he knew she couldn't have been home for more than ten minutes, yet she'd already changed into her pajamas, thrown her hair up into a messy bun on top of her head and dove headfirst into the paper she'd been working on non-stop for the past two and a half weeks. _

"_Hey," he said to her in greeting, knowing she'd most likely ignore him. He shook his head with a smirk when she proved him right and continued typing. The paper was for her journalism class if he remembered correctly, a class in her major that she cared about even if it wasn't directly related to the specific field she wanted to get into. It also counted for forty-five percent of her grade. Trying not to disturb her, Damon closed the door behind him before making his way silently across the open living space and into the kitchen area. Setting the cooler on the counter, he reached for the refrigerator, stopping with his arm outstretched as he caught sight of the sink. _

_Or more specifically, the pile of dirty dishes still sitting in the sink. _

_Sighing, Damon closed his eyes. The previous night, Elena had promised to take care of them in the morning before leaving for class. That morning, she'd given him yet another promise that she'd take care of them first thing _after_ she got home from class. _

_A promise that remained unfulfilled. _

Not that it's a big deal,_ Damon thought, turning away from the annoying sight and restocking the fridge with a fresh supply of blood. She was his girlfriend, not his roommate and he wasn't trying to have some kind of tit for tat competition over who did the most around the apartment. Generally, the housekeeping fell to him, which was fine. Back in Mystic Falls, Stefan had rarely emerged from his despair and self-loathing long enough to pick up a dust cloth and now – between school, work and studying – what little free time Elena had, Damon preferred she spend with him, so he'd gotten used to it. _

_And, okay, _maybe, _he was a bit of a neat freak._ Maybe.

_But really, what was so freakish about taking five extra seconds to rinse off a plate and put it in the dishwasher? Or taking two minutes to make the bed in the morning, or ten to vacuum the rugs and sweep the floor once a week? What was so goddamn hard to understand about his desire_ not_ to have every article of his clothing lying on the bedroom floor? _

_Closing the stocked fridge, he returned the empty cooler to its place in the hall closet before returning to the kitchen – and glaring at the sink of dirty dishes. _

_Elena had promised to do them and because he knew that it bothered her that he paid the rent – even though the fifteen hundred a month was barely a blip on his financial radar – he'd left them for her. _

_He'd also assumed she'd take care of it before the leftover food turned into some kind of at-home biohazard. _

"_Don't do it, Damon," Elena warned before he'd taken more than a single step toward the sink. "Don't you dare."_

_Frowning at the dishes he had yet to even touch, he raised a brow and glanced over his shoulder. "Do what?"_

"That. _The dishes," she replied, looking up from the pile of textbooks spread across the table and pointing at him with her pen. "I told you I'd do them and I will. I just need to finish this section without any distractions."_

"_How is doing the dishes a distraction?"_

_Making a sound of disgust, she tossed her pen on the table and massaged her temples. "Because," she began, drawing out the word into half a dozen syllables as she sighed dramatically. "You're going to turn on the water and spend ten minutes prewashing them – which is completely pointless because you're just going to load them into the dish_washer."

"_Elena-."_

"_Then," she continued, her full lips pinched into a disapproving frown as her voice rose in agitation. "You're going to_ run _the dishwasher. And if there's even one dish that's loose it's going to clank around during the entire, already loud cycle – which is_ distracting_._"

_Damon usually found the way she could predict his every move amusing, but at the moment it made him bristle with irritation. "I haven't even touched them yet."_

"_Oh, but you will," she replied with such condescending certainty that he couldn't decide whether to leave the dishes out of spite or spend the entire evening hand washing every plate, bowl and cup in the kitchen. _

"_Maybe if you'd done them when you got home from class like you promised, I wouldn't have to do them now," he retorted. _

"_I didn't know I had a deadline, Mr. Clean," she shot back, her cheeks flushed in a way that he would have found adorable if he hadn't been so goddamned annoyed. _

"_Mr. Clean is bald," he pointed out. "If you want to insult me, at least try for a comparison that fits."_

"_Oh, believe me, it fits," she declared, leaping to her feet and stalking toward the counter. _

"_How?" he demanded. "I have a head full of hair."_

"_Don't try to change the subject with your snarky little comments," Elena growled back. "I'm so tired of you distracting me when I'm trying to do my homework. I know that you think college is a big waste of my time, but it's important to me. You could at least_ pretend _to respect that."_

"_Now who's changing the subject," Damon scoffed, after a brief moment of shocked silence. It had been awhile since they'd had a real fight and he'd forgotten how cutting she could be. "You think I don't respect how important college is to you?" He would have laughed at the absurdity of the statement if she hadn't been glaring at him with real anger in her deep brown eyes. "I'm the one who convinced you to apply, Elena. I helped you get scholarships and found this damn apartment."_

"_Oh, so now you want to take credit for it?" she demanded incredulously. _

"_Jesus Christ…That is not what I…," Damon sighed, closing his eyes as he practically growled in frustration. He'd been cutting her slack for the past couple of weeks because of the paper, but he'd caught himself fighting back more and more in the last few days. _

_At the rate they were going, they'd kill each other before Elena could turn in that paper._

Enough of this, _he decided, blurring around the counter and throwing her over his shoulder. He'd carried her down the short hallway to their bedroom before she'd managed a single protest. _

"_What the hell are you doing?" she cried, beating at him with her fists as he deposited her on the hardwood floor and blocked her escape through the doorway. _

"_Get dressed," he ordered. "We're going out."_

"_Uh, no we're not," she argued, crossing her arms and glaring at him insolently. "My paper is due on Monday and I'm not even-."_

"_It's Friday night, Elena," Damon interrupted, eyeing her stocking feet, shorts and tank top. "You're going to put on something sexy and we're going out for a few hours so you can_ relax_ and enjoy yourself."_

"_Oh really?" she challenged, her eyes sparkling with defiance. "Just because you're faster and stronger than I am doesn't mean you can order me around." _

"_You're right. You can refuse," he agreed, shifting to lean one shoulder against the doorframe. "Then again, I can refuse to move and let you go back to your books, and we can stand here and glare at each other until the wee hours of the morning. Either way, that paper isn't getting finished tonight." _

_For a few seconds Elena continued to glare at him, her eyes glittering with silent fury, before she abruptly slammed the door shut in his face. Despite his frustration, Damon couldn't help the smirk that curved his lips. Elena Gilbert was beautiful when she was angry and if he hadn't been so irritated with her, he might have prolonged the fight just to enjoy it a little longer. _

_Crossing his arms, Damon settled in for a long wait, certain that Elena would take her time out of sheer spite – if she even followed his orders at all. Within minutes, however, he heard drawers opening and closing followed by the soft rustle of fabric and the tell-tale sound of heels against the hardwood floor. Then silence._

_Fifteen minutes later, the door flew open and Elena strode past him in a flowing black dress that left her arms and miles of leg bare. Damon watched her walk away in a pair of the sexiest black heels he'd ever seen, enjoying every exaggerated sway of her hips before following after her. _

"_Aren't_ you _going to change?" she demanded, running a hand through her hair as she waited impatiently by the front door. The bun was gone, instead, her hair hung in loose waves halfway down her back, making his fingers itch with the need to run through their softness. _

_Grabbing his keys off of the kitchen counter, he glanced down at his black pants and dark blue button-down. Lifting a shoulder, he grinned. "Why mess with perfection?"_

_Elena scoffed in disgust. "You are so_ annoying."

"_And you look amazing," he replied, taking a moment to appreciate the subtle smoky eye makeup and red lipstick she'd used to enhance her already gorgeous features. Opening the door, he tipped his head toward the hallway. "Let's go."_

_She rolled her eyes, but not before he noticed the slight twitch of her lips over his compliment. They walked to the elevator, riding it down to the first floor in a silence that was only slightly less strained than their argument had been. Opening the passenger door of the Camaro, she ignored his offered hand and settled into the front seat without assistance._

This is going to be fun_, he thought, steeling himself for the challenge that he knew the night was becoming. Clenching his jaw resolutely, he slid into the driver's seat and shifted the car into gear. _

_Goddammit, she was going to have fun tonight. _

_Even if it killed him. _

_Sitting primly in the passenger seat, Elena stared straight ahead as Damon drove through the streets of Atlanta. Vowing to force her to break the silence, he stole quick glances at her now and then, watching the steady degradation of her resolve. He drove without hesitation, clearly heading toward a very specific destination, and he could feel her curiosity growing with each block they passed. By the time he pulled up in front of a brightly lit nightclub, she was peering through the passenger window with obvious interest._

"_Where are we?" she asked dubiously, eyeing the double doors of the club and the clumps of people heading inside. The place was classier than the dives Damon took Alaric to when he came to visit, but not so posh that he'd have to compel his way past a velvet rope. It was the type of place people frequented to dance, drink and enjoy themselves rather than see and be seen. _

_It also happened to be karaoke night and a little blonde bird had informed him of Elena's dirty little secret._

_His girlfriend and love of his life…was a karaoke-aholic._

_Winking at her, Damon said nothing as he climbed out of the vehicle. Accepting his hand this time as he opened the door for her, Elena climbed gracefully out of the low slung seat despite the heels and the dress. Slipping an arm around her waist, he escorted her into the club. _

_The place was crowded, but not packed and he found a spot at the bar with little effort. He groaned as the opening strains of Don McLean's "American Pie" poured from the speakers. "Really?" he asked, signaling for the bartender. "Who in the hell thinks it's okay to pick an eight and a half minute song for karaoke night? Seriously, who?"_

"_Apparently, that guy," Elena replied, biting her lip to hold back a grin as she pointed toward the stage. A synthesized dance beat took over the acoustic instrumental as he ordered his usual bourbon and a vodka tonic for Elena. He nearly gagged as the man started to sing. Horribly. "He's doing the Madonna version," Damon said dully. "Great. At least it's only four and a half minutes." Four and a half minutes of hell_.

_Despite her efforts, Elena burst out laughing. "You sound ridiculous." _

"_What?" he asked as the bartender delivered their drinks. "Some songs…and people," he added as the hapless performer's voice cracked. "Should be banned from karaoke." _

"_I'm surprised you don't think all songs should be banned," she said, eyeing him suspiciously. "You hate karaoke."_

"_Yes, I do," he agreed, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye. He could practically see the wheels turning in her head as she tried to figure out what angle he might be getting ready to play. Picking up his bourbon, he took a sip. _

"_Did you know tonight was karaoke night?"_

_Damon shrugged. "Maybe."_

_Fiddling with the straw in her drink, Elena raised a brow. "I suppose you expect me to go sing or something." _

"_Elena," he said with a sigh, sliding an arm along the bar behind her back as he leaned in closer so he could be heard over the familiar chorus. "I expect you to have a good time. If that involves getting up on that stage and showing me your best Katy Perry, so be it."_

…_and then he smirked at her._

_She tensed, heat radiating off of her body as her skin flushed. Taking a delicate sip of her drink, however, she pretended like nothing was wrong. "So, Caroline told you."_

"_In great detail," he confirmed, grinning as he took another drink. The last time Caroline had visited them, she'd practically had to carry Elena from the elevator to their apartment door after their top secret Girls' Night Out. They'd kept the details from him, but with Elena stumbling into the bathroom to throw up half a fifth of vodka, Caroline had gone into disaster-recovery mode. She'd revealed how much Elena had enjoyed singing karaoke at one of the bars they'd hit in between her excuses and explanations as to how his girlfriend had ended up so intoxicated. _

_As if Damon had any room to comment on anyone else's alcohol intake._

"_I'm going to kill her," Elena fumed._

"_You're going to have to get in line," he replied. "I'm pretty sure I already owe her five or six painful deaths." _

_Shaking her head as she fought a rueful smile, Elena downed half of her drink. "I don't care. What happens on Girls' Night, is supposed to stay on Girls' Night."_

_She wasn't snapping at him anymore, so Damon chose not to remind her that what had happened on Girls' Night had ended up in the toilet of their apartment. Well, most of it had. "Come on," he said, trailing his fingertips up and down her bare arm. "Get up there."_

"_No, karaoke is Caroline's thing," she insisted. "I was just along for the ride."_

"_But I want to hear your rendition of 'I Kissed A Girl'," he said, chuckling as her eyes widened and her blush deepened exponentially. "Caroline said it was epic."_

"_There is not enough alcohol in this bar." _

"_Fine, I'll make you a deal," he offered. "You sing one song and I will help you finish your paper." _

_Whipping her head toward him, Elena eyed him suspiciously. "How do I know you won't renege?" _

_Feigning insult, he placed a hand over his heart. "I am a lot of things, Elena, but I am not a welcher." _

_Daring her to accept the challenge, he held her gaze as she stared at him through narrowed eyes. "Come with me." _

"_Ha. Not on your life," he retorted with a laugh, leaving no room for argument. It didn't matter if he could carry a tune in a bucket or not, he wouldn't. Ever. "I do_ not_ sing. Not even for you."_

_Expecting her to refuse out of spite, she surprised him a moment later by quickly finishing her drink and offering him a taunting smile. Setting her empty glass on the bar and winking at him, she quickly made her way up to the stage. _

_Impressed, Damon grinned after her before signaling for the bartender and ordering Elena another drink. "She's going to need it in about five minutes," he murmured, turning back around as she took the stage. He honestly had no idea if she could sing, although he had no doubt she'd be an improvement over what he'd heard so far. _

"_Hi," Elena said softly into the microphone, tucking her hair nervously behind her hear as she looked out at the crowd. She took an audible breath as the musical intro started and scanned the room until she found him. The defiant spark that had given her the courage to take the stage in the first place returned as she lifted her chin and added. "This is, um, dedicated to Damon. Who never fails to remind me that he's cooler than me."_

_Bemused, he listened as she began singing the first verse, laughing outright when he recognized it as a more than passable version of a Top 40 song from a few years ago. He couldn't remember who it was by – Top 40 was_ not_ his music of choice – but it had been played so incessantly on the radio for months that it had been impossible to escape. It had reminded him of the guy's version of "You're So Vain."_

_The crowd loved it and by the time Elena got to the second chorus, she'd loosened up enough that it looked like she was enjoying herself as well. She finished to a round of applause and Damon had to admit, his girlfriend could carry a tune. _

_Breathless, she rushed back to the bar – her cheeks flushed, eyes sparkling – and gratefully snatched up the fresh drink. _

"_Did you enjoy that?" he asked, taking another sip of his bourbon._

"_Maybe," she replied coyly, looking up at him through her lashes as she stirred her drink. _

"_Maybe," he scoffed, setting his drink on the counter and pulling her into his arms. She came willingly – a nice change from the day's animosity. "You can thank me later."_

"_Thank you?" she repeated, eyes wide as she stared up at him. "I'll thank you on Sunday night when_ we _finish my paper." _

_Chuckling, he nodded. "A deal's a deal," he promised, kissing her forehead. He'd planned on helping her whether she'd done the song or not, but she didn't need to know that. _

_Music began to pour from the overhead speakers as the karaoke portion of the evening came to an end. Elena took another drink before reaching behind her back to curl her fingers around his. "Dance with me."_

"_That I'll do," he agreed, stealing another kiss before letting her drag him onto the dance floor. _

* * *

Peering into the gloom, Damon shook off the memory, trying not to notice how quickly and thoroughly it had snuck up and surprised him. For a moment, as he'd stood at the top of the rickety wooden stairs, he'd been able to smell Elena's perfume.

_Not the goddamn time,_ he thought angrily, burying the thought of her with a comforting ease. The switch was fine. _He _was fine. He'd just let his guard down for a minute.

It wouldn't happen again.

"Gregory!" Damon bellowed, his voice rousing the half-conscious vampires who started in their chairs and blinked at the sunlight. "I know you're in here, Greg," he continued after a few moments of silence. "Come out, come out, wherever you are."

"I thought I told you to stay the fuck away." The swinging doors that led to the back storeroom parted as Gregory entered, a hulking vampire flanking him on either side. They were carrying crates, like overgrown stock boys, but Damon knew the way the old bootlegger's mind worked and recognized bodyguards when he saw them.

"Who're your friends?" Damon asked, nodding toward the silent walls of moving flesh and muscle.

"These guys?" Gregory asked, watching smugly as the vampires set their crates on the scuffed wooden bar and returned obediently to his side. "They're not friends. They're insurance."

Damon smiled grimly. "I'll bet."

"I could ask you the same thing, you know," Gregory replied, crossing his arms as he gave Katherine a dismissive once over. "But I think I already know. Is Elena Gilbert playing dress up and pretending to be Katherine Pierce again?"

Katherine raised her brows in surprise, placing a hand on her hip as she slowly turned her head toward Damon. "Excuse me?"

"Oh yeah," he murmured, enjoying the look of astonishment and offence that crossed Katherine's features. "I might have forgotten to mention the time Elena and I were here before."

"And she pretended to be _me_?"

"Please," he retorted with a dismissive wave of his hand. "A little attitude combined with a slutty outfit and it's not that difficult."

"Well, I'm not Elena," she said, addressing Gregory after shooting Damon a death glare. "You'd be wise to keep that in mind."

"Yeah, right," the bartender scoffed. "That's why you're still standing in the sun where my associates can't reach you."

"You don't believe me?" she demanded, utterly stunned as she turned to Damon. "He doesn't believe me."

"Fool me once, shame on you," Gregory shrugged, showing his disregard for his own safety by turning his back on Katherine and opening one of the crates. "Fool me twice, and all that."

Damon had seen Katherine mad plenty of times over the years, but it had been awhile since he'd seen the level of indignation and fury pouring off of her as she tried to burn Gregory into a pile of ash with nothing more than her fiery gaze. For several seconds, he watched her fume, nearly able to see the gears turning in her head as she considered her response. After a few moments, a sly smirk curved her lips.

Damon's pulse jumped. _This is going to be fun._

"Damon," she began, licking her dark red lips as she turned to him. "I think a demonstration is in order, don't you?"

"What do you have in mind?" he asked, returning the smile. Before Gregory had a chance to register the threat, Katherine blurred across the bar, her dark curls streaking out behind her like a banner, and ripped out the heart of thug number one. Thug number two met a similar fate before the first could choke out a gurgled cry of surprise and collapse to his knees. Both oversized vampires hit the floor facedown, the impact stirring up a cloud of dust that wafted through the air.

"Nice work," Damon said approvingly.

Holding a bloody heart in each hand, Katherine flashed him a grin before turning to a justifiably terrified Gregory. Stepping over one of the bodies and sauntering over with the grace of a catwalk model, she tossed the hearts to the floor before gripping the quaking vampire by the throat with a single bloody hand.

"Vampire 101, idiot," she snarled, pressing Gregory into the bar so hard that Damon winced. "Size. Doesn't. Matter."

"I-I'm sorry," he stammered.

"You just turned those morons, didn't you," she continued in disgust. "You fucking naïve little shit. How the hell have you survived for the past ninety years?"

"Katherine," Damon cautioned, making his way to the bar. "Don't kill him yet."

"Why not?" she muttered. "I'd be doing him a favor. His stupidity is offensive."

"I know," he agreed, reaching over the bar and picking through the rail drinks for a bottle of bourbon. Making a face at the brand, he unscrewed the top and took a drink. Tipping the bottle toward Gregory, he added. "It really is, Greg. I should let her kill you."

"Please…," he begged. "Wh-what do you want?"

"Nothing from you," Katherine snorted, tightening her grip.

"We're here for your brother," Damon replied, offering the bottle to Katherine. She took it with a bloody hand, taking a large drink without easing her grip on the other vampire's throat.

"He-he's not here," Gregory stammered. "Honestly, Damon, I swear. He's not here."

"Oh, I know," Damon nodded, smirking at the vampire's confusion. "But he will be."

* * *

Stretched out on the couch in the library of the Salvatore house, Jeremy closed his eyes, massaging his temples as he listened to Bonnie mutter under her breath. She was trying – and failing – to find a way to track down Damon, but the location spell she'd used to find Elena didn't seem to work on vampires. No matter what she tried, the drop of Stefan's blood refused to move across the map.

They'd ruined three maps of the Southern United States already.

"Why the hell isn't this working?" she cried suddenly, rising so quickly from the desk that the oversized, wheeled desk chair slammed back into the bookshelves. "I've tried, Jeremy. I have tried every variation I could think of and nothing is freaking working."

"Maybe it's not meant to work on vampires," he said without opening his eyes. He felt like they'd had the same conversation half a dozen times in the three hours since Caroline had taken Elena up to Damon's room. "Maybe it's only supposed to find _living _people."

He made the comment easily enough, but Jeremy's stomach turned at the thought. Living. _Alive_. Vampire's were technically dead – or, well, undead.

_Whatever that meant. _

Elena was going to be a vampire. She was going to be _undead. _

How the hell was he supposed to feel about that?

Bonnie fell silent, the scrape of the chair on the floor signaling her return to work, and leaving Jeremy alone in contemplation. The curtains in the library were drawn – they'd been drawn throughout the house in deference to Elena. When she woke up, she'd gradually become more and more sensitive to the sun until she completed the transition and it became lethal. _She's going to need a ring, _he thought, the surreal notion just as unsettling as the fact that she'd be drinking blood and living forever.

Well, not really living.

_Fuck, why does it have to be so damn complicated? _

Jeremy had no real problem with vampires. Stefan and Katherine made him nervous, but he'd been around Damon and Caroline so much in the past few years that he barely thought of either of them as vampires anymore. The Gilbert family legacy of hunting down their kind had well and truly died with his Uncle John and Jeremy had long since gotten over any lingering feelings of obligation to take up the family business, but that didn't mean he wanted his sister to _be _one.

Of course, he didn't want his sister to be _dead _dead, either.

What was he going to do when he saw her? How was he going to act? The questions had started the second he'd accepted that Caroline had been right and that Elena _was _in transition. Even now, they tumbled through his head, overlapping and making it impossible to get any rest.

The most damning question of all…

Would being a vampire turn her into a monster like it had done to Stefan?

He shivered at the mental image of his sister, vamped out and deadly, lunging for the throat of some poor human and draining them dry without a second thought.

_She'd rather die than be like that, _he thought, vowing to do whatever it took to make sure that didn't happen. Elena wasn't going to be a Ripper like Stefan, he vowed. If he had to turn himself to help her, than that's what he'd do.

"Stefan, where the hell are you?" Elena's voice carried from the front of the house all the way back into the library, making Jeremy open his eyes and sit up with a start. Dragging her nose out of her spell books, Bonnie met his gaze with wide eyes.

"She's awake," he breathed, swinging his legs to the ground and launching off of the couch. All of his questions disappeared in his sudden desire to see Elena. Racing out of the library, with Bonnie close on his heels, they came to a halt at the end of the hallway just as Stefan and Alaric exited the living room.

Stefan's shoulders sagged with relief as he greeted her in the middle of the foyer. "Elena, you're-."

"Damon thinks I'm dead," she snapped, striding right up to the younger Salvatore and putting her hands on her hips. Barefoot and wearing what Jeremy assumed was one of Damon's shirts, she glowered at him like a petite storm cloud of anger. "Why the hell does Damon think I'm dead, Stefan? Why haven't you called him?"

"We've tried," Stefan said, shooting a look over his shoulder at Caroline. Standing on the bottom step of the staircase, the blonde shrugged helplessly. "We're _trying_," he amended when Elena scoffed in disgust. "His phone is off, Elena."

"Well, what about _Katherine?_" she demanded, sneering as she spit out her doppelganger's name. "You sent her with him, right?"

"She's not picking up," Stefan admitted.

"Of course she's not," Elena sneered, crossing her arms. "Do you even know where Damon is?"

"Do you?" Stefan retorted, forcing her back a step as his own temper briefly flared.

"No," she replied, refusing to be intimidated. "But I've been a little _dead_."

Whistling softly, Jeremy shook his head in awe. He hadn't seen his sister this upset in years. She'd never really had a temper, but Elena knew how to channel her inner Mean Girl bitch when the situation called for it.

And as her younger brother, Jeremy had often given her cause to call on it.

* * *

_Slipping the headphones over his head, Jeremy plugged them into the audio jack on his computer. Choosing a playlist at random from his vast collection of mp3's, he settled back into his desk chair for an afternoon of God of War III. Losing track of time, he was beginning his third attempt to get through a particularly tricky spot when someone slapped him on the back of the head, knocking his headphones into his lap._

"_What the hell?" he demanded angrily as he watched Kratos die at the hands of his enemies. "Dammit, Elena, I've been trying to beat that level all day!" _

"_Were you at the Salvatore's last night?" Elena demanded, standing next to his desk with her hands on her hips. Her cheeks were flushed as she glared at him with a mixture of fear and anger in her eyes. _

"_What are you talking about?" he asked, playing dumb as his brain scrambled for a viable lie. He'd been certain that no one had noticed him leaving the house with the bottle of vervaine and the shoddy wooden stake. Obviously, he'd been wrong._

"_Cut the crap," she insisted, holding out a warning finger. "Stefan already told me you were there, so don't bother lying."_

Fucking Stefan_, Jeremy groaned internally, plucking the headphones from his lap and setting them on the desk. He wondered if Damon had ratted him out or if Stefan had been in the house at the time. Not that it mattered now because Elena knew. Jeremy liked his sister's boyfriend well enough, but for a supposed creature of the night, Stefan was such a freaking goody-goody. "Well, if you already know I was there, what are you asking me for?"_

"_Because I want to know why," she fumed, forging ahead before he had a chance to form a response. "You went to see Damon, didn't you?" _

"_I-."_

"_Oh, don't even bother, I know you did," she interrupted, chewing on a thumbnail as she paced his room. "You never listen to me. You never listen to anyone. Not me, not Jenna. Half the time you didn't even listen to mom and dad."_

"_Do you have an actual_ question _for me?" Jeremy bristled at the mention of their parents, swiveling in his chair to glare at his sister. "Or do you just want to stand there and yell in my general direction for awhile?"_

"_I told you to stay away from that house," she replied, her brows forming a solid line of worry as she scrunched them together. "I told you to stay away from Damon. He's dangerous, Jeremy."_

"_This_ town_ is dangerous."_

"_He killed you!" she shrieked, her voice rising to an uncomfortable pitch._

"_Yeah, well…it didn't really stick, did it?" he muttered, recalling his disorientation when he'd woken up on the floor in Elena's arms. Tearfully, she'd told him what Damon had done, filling in the blanks in Jeremy's memory that hadn't allowed him to recall the actual moment when the vampire had snapped his neck in a fit of bitterness and rage. _

_Jeremy's anger and sense of indignation had sparked a desire for revenge. Armed with the vervaine and the wooden stake, he'd called upon his latent juvenile delinquent skills and broken into the Salvatore house. _

_Although, given the fact that the Salvatores rarely locked their door, it hadn't been breaking in so much as walking in, but Jeremy refused to quibble over semantics. _

_Reminding himself that he was a Gilbert and killing vampires was in his blood, he'd poured vervaine into every bottle of liquor he could find and settled himself into a chair to await Damon's return. The elder Salvatore had taken his time, however, and by the time he'd finally sauntered through the front door and into the living room to pour himself a drink, Jeremy's anger had faded._

_While he'd been waiting, doing his best to nurse his anger by thinking about the night Damon had killed him, Jeremy had remembered a bit more. The actual moment of his death had remained elusive, but he'd remembered Damon's face before it happened, remembered the expression in his eyes. _

_The memory of that despair had been intense. It had surpassed the loneliness and grief that Jeremy had been drowning in since the night his parents had died and for the first time he'd believed that someone other than Anna might have understood. That feeling of understanding – of _sympathy_ – had made his outrage seem pointless, especially considering he'd been willing to die at his own hand only forty-eight hours earlier._

_He hadn't told Damon all of that, but the weirdly unspoken camaraderie had stopped him from letting Damon drink the vervaine laced alcohol._

_Elena swallowed convulsively, wrapping her arms around her middle. "How can you joke about it?" _

"_I got my neck snapped by a fucking_ vampire_ and came back to life a few minutes later because of a magic ring," Jeremy replied with a derisive snort. "It's fucking funny." _

"_You have to stay away from Damon," she said, ignoring his macabre humor in favor of issuing yet another order. "Promise me, Jeremy. He's dangerous and you can't trust him."_

"_Oh really? Aren't you and Ric going on a road trip with him this weekend?" he asked, raising a brow at her incredulous expression. "Yeah, I know how to eavesdrop, too. Stefan's not the only one."_

_Elena's jaw dropped as she sputtered out an excuse. "Th-that's not the point."_

"_Than what is, Elena?" he asked, tired of the verbal assault and more than tired of being told to stay away from the supernatural by a well-meaning, but over-bearing sister who happened to be sleeping with a goddamn vampire. "You want to know why I went to see Damon? Fine. I went over there to kill him. An eye for an eye, right? I figured it was about time I lived up to Dad and Uncle John's expectations. I mean, I've spent the past sixteen years failing miserably, right?"_

_Elena's face paled as her eyes widened in horror. "Jeremy, you didn't-."_

"_Relax," he said, rolling his eyes. He would never understand why she acted like his freaking mother when she was only one year older than him. "Damon knows. He doesn't care. Hell, if anything I think I earned a little of his respect."_

"_Respect?" she repeated, shaking her head. "I don't think you understand-."_

"_Maybe it's you who doesn't understand," he countered, rising to his feet and towering over her. He'd heard it all before from Elena and Aunt Jenna and he was sure he'd hear it again, but not today. Today, he was done. "Elena, I love you. You're my sister, but until you quit_ dating _vampires, don't tell me I have to stay away from them."_

_Turning sideways, Jeremy slipped by his sister, leaving her standing slack-jawed in the middle of his darkened, messy bedroom and headed down the stairs._ Maybe I'll go see what Damon's up to,_ he thought as he pushed through the front door and flipped up the hood of his sweatshirt against the light drizzle that had started falling from the sky. _

_He almost hoped Elena would follow him, just to see the look on her face._

* * *

Apparently dissatisfied with Stefan's excuses, Elena shoved at his chest, forcing the older vampire back a couple of steps. Jeremy smirked, amused by the look of surprise that briefly flashed over Stefan's face at her new strength.

"You have to _do _something, Stefan," Elena insisted, trying to shove him again. This time Stefan caught her wrists, holding her in place. "Damon can't think I'm dead. You have to go after him."

"We don't know where he is, Elena," Stefan explained again. "We don't know how to find him. Damon didn't tell me where he was going. If he had I'd be out there right now, tracking him down, I promise."

Elena's shoulders sagged in defeat, making Jeremy's heart constrict with sympathy. He'd read enough of the Founders journals to know that transitioning was hard, a whirlwind of mood swings, cravings and confusion. Without Damon there – worse, knowing Damon was out there thinking that she was dead – Elena must be about to lose her mind.

Forgetting the fact that mere minutes ago, he'd been wondering how to act around his newly turned sister, Jeremy made his way across the foyer and placed a hand on her shoulder. "Hey, Elena, they're doing the best they can," he murmured, surprising himself with the admission when not long ago he'd been berating Stefan in similar fashion for not protecting his sister. "We all are."

Elena whirled around so fast, Jeremy barely distinguished the movement. One second, she was standing with her back to him, the next she was twisting in Stefan's grasp to stare at him with wide eyes.

"Jeremy?" she gasped in disbelief. In that moment, the only thing different about his sister was the fear in her eyes. He hadn't seen her looking so lost in a long, _long_ time.

"Nice to see you, sis," he said, swallowing past the lump in his throat as he offered her a lopsided grin. Stefan had released her wrists, allowing her to bring her hands to her mouth as tears glistened in her eyes. She threw herself at him in the next instant with an astonishing strength and speed, forcing Jeremy backwards several steps. "Wow."

"Sorry," she whispered, as hot tears hit the bare skin of his neck. "I'm not used to the super-strength yet."

"No problem," he murmured, wrapping his arms around her as he buried his face in the wavy curtain of her dark hair. Vampire or not, she felt and sounded like Elena. Like the sister who'd cried with him when their parents had died, who'd been there to pull him out of his descent into drugs and juvenile delinquency and who'd annoyed the hell out of him in her efforts to keep him safe from the supernatural world that had grabbed onto them both and refused to let go.

So, she was going to be a little bit moodier, her diet was going to change and she'd have an aversion to sunlight. Who the hell cared? A part of him had always expected this, he realized. The more he'd watched Damon and Elena together, the more Jeremy had known deep down that it had just been a matter of time. They'd become so intrinsically connected that he couldn't imagine either one ever leaving the other. Smoothing a hand down the back of her head, Jeremy sighed with real relief for the first time in days. "Believe me, Elena, it's not a problem."

_The only thing that matters, _he thought, as he closed his eyes, _is that I get to keep my family._

* * *

_AN Pt 2: A fellow author put out a plea to her readers not to judge fic by review count in light of the fact that the site now allows you to sort by number of reviews. I'm going to reiterate that and take it a step further. Please, if you like a fic - any fic, not mine specifically - take the time to let the author know. Even if it's just an anonymous/guest "Great chapter!" that lets the author know that people ARE reading and hopefully will keep some of the really great, hidden gems from falling through the cracks. _

_Now, I'm going to get off of my soapbox and go follow my own advice on some fic I've read recently that I haven't replied to. LOL_


	15. Third Person

_AN: Many thanks to my beta for coming up with the idea of the shop Elena, Caroline and Bonnie visit in the first flashback. Sadly, I don't believe that any of the items I mention specifically really exist. Thank God…_

_I know you're all eager for Damon to find out that Elena's alive, but bear with me. He's got some work to do first. ;p Enjoy!_

Chapter Fifteen - Third Person

Elena clung to her brother, the familiar feel of his arms and his scent helping her to find a sense of calm amidst the chaos of her emotions. Her sluggish heartbeat thundered in her ears as she squeezed her eyes shut and pressed her face against his chest. _It's going to be okay, _she thought as Jeremy absently rubbed his hand up and down her back. The past week had been a horror show and her transition wasn't proceeding as planned, but she wasn't alone. Jeremy, Alaric, Bonnie, Caroline and Tyler – even Stefan – were here. Her _family _was all here and she _wasn't_ alone. They'd find Damon – somehow – and he'd come back to her and everything would be okay.

They'd survive.

They always survived.

"When did you get here?" Elena asked, barely turning her head and mumbling into his shoulder.

"Yesterday morning," he replied, squeezing her tightly. "Damon called me."

"He _what_?" Elena asked sharply, pulling back to look at him as her temper flared unexpectedly. _Damon _had dragged Jeremy into this? What the hell had he been thinking? Landis was dangerous. Jeremy could've gotten hurt.

"Yeah," he nodded, oblivious to her rising anger. "For the location spell. Bonnie needed my blood so that we could find you."

Location spell. _Oh. _Elena blinked, her anger receding as quickly as it had risen, leaving her dizzy. Shaking her head to clear it, she closed her eyes and wiped the tears from her cheeks. One second she was overjoyed that her family was with her so she didn't have to go through transition alone, the next she was outraged at her boyfriend for putting her brother in the line of fire. God, she needed to get a grip. Rising on her toes, she wrapped her arms around him again. "I missed you."

"Missed you, too," he replied as she rested her cheek on his shoulder. The move brought her face close enough to his neck to feel the warmth radiating from his skin – to hear and feel the steady thrum of his pulse.

_His pulse…_

Her lashes fluttered as she stared at the smooth column of his throat. Images of the dark, rich blood rushing through his veins danced in front of her mind's eye until she was certain that she could _see _the vein throbbing beneath his skin. A dull ache started at the back of her throat, intensifying quickly into a burning thirst as she stared, mesmerized by the thought of sinking her blunt human teeth into his flesh.

_It would be so easy, _she thought dreamily, trailing her hand over Jeremy's shoulder and across his chest to let her fingertips dance over the pulse point below his jaw. She didn't even have to bite him. One quick flick of her finger and the nail would slice through the skin, setting the warm blood free so she could catch it with her tongue…

"Elena?"

Blinking her eyes as the sound of his voice sliced through her blood-hunger musings, Elena recoiled in horror and jerked out of her brother's embrace. Heat flared around her eyes as she brought a hand to her mouth. _No, no, no, no, _she thought frantically, gasping for breath as she covered her face with both hands. She'd almost bitten Jeremy. _How _could she have almost bitten _Jeremy?_

"Elena?" Jeremy repeated, reaching for her again.

"I'm fine," she said, taking another step back and holding up her hands to ward him off. The heat and pain were fading quickly now that she'd put some space between them. The thirst – and humiliation at what she'd nearly done – persisted, however, as she swallowed and took a deep breath before lifting her head to meet Jeremy's worried gaze.

"Are you sure?" Stefan asked, placing his hand on her arm and making her jump. She hadn't noticed him coming to her side, hadn't noticed that she was standing in the center of the foyer, as her friends, her _family_, stared at her like some monster in a cage, a dangerous specimen to be studied. Alaric and Jeremy eyed her with wary concern, Tyler and Stefan with pity. Bonnie hovered near the hallway, watching her with wide brown eyes laced with curiosity, sorrow and…_fear. _

_Fear. Of her._

_Her. They were all staring at her._

_They're afraid of me, _she thought wildly, almost succumbing to hysterics yet again. "I'm _fine_," she cried, scaring herself with the pitch and intensity of her voice. Desperately, she wished for Damon, wished that he was there to hold her together and promise her that the wild merry-go-round of emotions wasn't going to destroy her before she could complete the transition. Elena knew that she could turn to Stefan, that he would help her, but she didn't _want _to. She wanted Damon.

_Well, Damon's not here, so get over it. _

The harsh thought came from the furthest recesses of her mind, shades of her boyfriend's cynicism coloring the tone, bringing with it a spark of clarity that helped her focus. Running her hands through her hair, she closed her eyes and swallowed before meeting Stefan's dubious gaze. "Really. I'm…I'm okay. I just-."

"She needs blood," Caroline stated bluntly, jumping off of the bottom stair and joining Elena fearlessly in the middle of the foyer.

"Blood?" Jeremy repeated, slightly aghast.

"To complete the transition?" Caroline retorted as if he were four kinds of stupid for not understanding immediately. "There isn't any in the house, so you four should go out and get some."

"You want us to leave?" Alaric demanded, stepping deeper into the foyer.

"Elena just woke up," Jeremy chimed in, advancing on Elena. "She needs-."

"She needs space," Stefan finished, nodding at Caroline as a look of understanding passed between them. Addressing Elena, he added. "Caroline can help you. Other than Damon, she's the best person for the job. She basically figured this whole thing out on her own."

"Hey," the blonde vampire interjected, poking Stefan in the bicep as Elena nodded. "Give yourself a little credit."

Offering her a wan smile, Stefan headed for the front door with Jeremy following close behind. Alaric hesitated, studying her with a furrowed brow. "Elena..."

"Go with Stefan," she nodded, sucking in a breath and holding it as she gave him a quick hug. Her heart twisted painfully as she admitted. "I don't want to hurt either of you." Pulling away quickly, she hung her head, trying to reclaim the sense of resolve she'd found in that brief moment of reunion with Jeremy, but all she could think about was the fact that she'd nearly attacked him. Humiliation seared through her as, for the millionth time, she found herself wishing that Damon were there.

Alaric hesitated for a moment longer before letting Tyler pull him toward the door. The four men filed through the front door with all of the enthusiasm of a group of pallbearers in a funeral procession, the door closed ominously behind them.

"Wow," Caroline muttered. "They really know how to suck the life out of a room."

"I wouldn't blame them," Elena replied ruefully, tucking her hair behind her ear as she lifted her head. "I'm the one who can't play well with others right now."

"Whatever," Caroline replied with a fluttery wave of her hand. "You're in transition, Elena, you're not dying. Well, I guess, technically you're kind of dying, but it's not the end of the world. I really thought that with Stefan all at one with his inner vampire he'd be less woe-is-me about-."

"Elena?" Bonnie said her name quietly, surprising both her and Caroline. The witch had been so silent that Elena had nearly forgotten she was there.

"Bonnie?" she inquired after a moment of silence in which the witch didn't say another word. Feeling awkward and uncertain, Elena took a tentative step toward the hallway while Bonnie rushed toward her. Immediately, Elena panicked, frantically backing away. "Bonnie, no. I almost bit Jeremy. I could hurt you."

"You won't," Bonnie assured her, bravely closing the distance between them. "I masked it."

"Masked what?" Caroline asked, standing close to Elena and warily eyeing the two women.

"My heartbeat, my scent…everything that makes me smell and feel like a human," Bonnie answered with a small smile. "It's the spell I used on you in the tomb, Elena. The night we killed Klaus."

Elena stared at the witch, wrestling with the memory of how close she'd come to snacking on her brother. She wanted to believe Bonnie, accept the comfort she offered, but the risks were so high - too high. If the spell didn't work, Elena feared that it would be Bonnie's blood that helped her complete the transition.

"Trust me, Elena," Bonnie cajoled, hazarding a glance at Caroline before taking another step closer. "Please, trust me."

Closing her eyes, Elena sucked in a breath and held it as her willpower failed her. Fearfully, she held out her arms and in the space of half a second, Bonnie had pulled her into her embrace.

"I'm so sorry," Bonnie confessed, wrapping her arms around Elena and hanging on tightly. "I'm so, so sorry. I know this isn't what you wanted."

* * *

_Elena stood in the middle of_ An Unexpected Journey_, Caroline's new favorite store - surrounded by overpriced knick-knacks featuring Hollywood icons - and stared at her best friend. She couldn't possibly have heard her correctly. _

"_Are you sure about this, Care?" Elena asked, raising a brow skeptically. "You don't even play chess."_

"_I'll learn," the blond vampire replied, running her palms reverently over the glass display case that housed the 24 karat gold-plated chess set featuring various characters from the illustrious career of..._

_James Garner - Caroline's number one celebrity crush._

"_It's two hundred and fifty dollars," Elena pointed out, peering through the glass at the king and queen pieces that were fashioned into the likeness of Jim Rockford and Bret Maverick respectively. _

"_It's_ Duke_," she replied, referring to the character from_ The Notebook_ embodied by the Knight. Elena rolled her eyes. She loved _The Notebook_ as much as the next hopeless romantic, but two hundred and fifty dollars for a chess set that didn't feature a rain-soaked Ryan Gosling was about two hundred and fifty dollars too much. _

"_Whatever you say," Elena replied, suppressing a smile as she moved on to the next section of Hollywood kitsch. She felt as if she'd stepped into another store as she was assaulted by a wide array of glittering gold, green and red. _Guess we've gone over the rainbow_, she mused, fingering a beaded garland featuring ruby slippers, yellow bricks and little Toto's. _

"_Is she seriously considering that chess set?" Bonnie asked, surprising Elena as she emerged from the red and white Betty Boop section. _

"_You know how she feels about Allie and Noah," Elena said, trying to keep her voice low in an attempt to thwart Caroline's vampire hearing. _

_It didn't work. _

"_I can hear you, ya know," Caroline stated, bracing her hands on the top of the display case before turning around to glare at her best friends. Dissolving into giggles, Bonnie and Elena turned away, pretending to study a four piece ceramic mug set featuring Dorothy and her friends from Oz. _

_They were at the mall to shop for graduation, but the seemingly endless array of celebrity memorabilia had caught Caroline's eye and before Elena knew it, she and Bonnie had been dragged into a sea of novelty board games, ceramic figurines and life-size cardboard cutouts of Marilyn Monroe and James Dean. _

"_At the rate we're going, the mall is going to close before we find dresses," Bonnie muttered, glancing over her shoulder toward Caroline. _

_Elena chuckled. "Tell me about it." _

"_Oh, my god!" Caroline squealed suddenly, appearing at Elena's side. "You have to see this." _

_Rolling her eyes at Bonnie, Elena allowed Caroline to drag her across the crowded store to the section devoted to Warner Brothers cartoons. Crouching down amidst the Batman and Looney Tunes paraphernalia, Caroline wrapped her arms around a two and a half foot high hollowed out penguin. Gazing up at Elena, the blond vampire grinned. "Isn't he adorable?"_

"_Sure," Elena replied, perplexed as she tried to discern what exactly_ he _was. "He's…cute."_

"_What is that?" Bonnie asked bluntly as she joined them. _

_Caroline stared at them as if they'd lost their minds. "Hello, it's Mumble." Huffing in exasperation at they continued to stare blankly at her, she stood up and placed her hands on her hips. "You know. Mumble. From_ Happy Feet_." _

"_The dancing penguin movie?" Elena asked, furrowing her brow as she tried to remember. _

"_Yes!" Caroline nodded in triumph._

"_Okay, but_ what _is that?" Bonnie asked again, pointing toward the hollowed out shell of a penguin. _

"_Oh, it's an umbrella stand," Caroline replied, crouching down again to examine the bizarre item closer. "And it dances, too! When you put the umbrella in, it hits a censor that makes Mumble's feet move." _

"_Wow," Elena replied sardonically, certain that she'd now, literally, seen everything. _

"_You should get it!" Caroline announced, ignoring Elena's look of stunned horror as she continued. "For your apartment in Atlanta."_

"_Caroline, seriously?" Elena retorted. "Have you met Damon? Even if I wanted…_that_, there's no way he'd be okay with it." _

"_But it's Mumble," Caroline pouted for a moment before brightening. "I know! I'll buy it for you two as a housewarming gift."_

"_Oh, my god._ Caroline_," Elena laughed, covering her face with her hands as she shook her head. "I just…_no_." _

"_He. Dances," she stated emphatically, as if that fact alone explained everything. _

"_Housewarming present?" Bonnie repeated quietly, drawing Elena's attention. Lowering her hands, she looked at her friend, a completely different kind of horror twisting into a knot of anxiety in her stomach as she took in Bonnie's subdued expression. "You…you and Damon are getting an apartment in Atlanta? Together?" _

"_Um, yeah," Caroline replied, still focused on the life-sized penguin and oblivious to the tension mounting between Elena and Bonnie. "Where have you been, Bonnie? Damon had the place picked out before Elena knew she got into Emory." _

"_You got into Emory?" Bonnie demanded, her voice rising in surprise. _

Oh…shit._ Closing her eyes briefly, Elena nodded. _

"_I see…That's really…" Bonnie's eyes started to water as her look of disappointment hardened into one of betrayal. Swallowing hard, she adjusted the strap of her purse and muttered. "I should go."_

_Elena's heart sank. "Bonnie, wait," she cried, reaching for her friend. Bonnie jerked out of her grasp, weaving her way between the overflowing displays as she headed for the door. _

"_What's going on?" Caroline asked, finally rising from the floor. _

"_She didn't know about Atlanta," Elena replied with a sigh before heading after Bonnie. "I'll be right back."_

_Running out of the store, Elena looked up and down the wide mall pavilion, searching the crowds for her friend. By the time she found her, Bonnie was almost at the end of the corridor, getting ready to turn the corner toward the food court. _

"_Bonnie!" Elena called, threading her way through the clusters of people as she struggled to keep the other girl in sight. Ignoring the curious looks from the other shoppers, she broke out into a run, rounding the corner and catching up to her friend in front of a Starbucks. Grabbing Bonnie's arm, she gasped breathlessly. "Please, wait. Let me explain. I was going to tell you, but-."_

"_But let me guess," Bonnie interrupted, jerking her arm away and glaring at Elena. "You just hadn't found the right time."_

"_Well, yeah," Elena admitted, feeling her cheeks flush with embarrassment. "Everything's happening kind of fast and I-."_

"_You had the time to tell Caroline," Bonnie snapped. "You_ always_ have the time to tell her."_

_Elena frowned. "What's that supposed to mean?"_

"_It means I'm always the last to know," she retorted, crossing her arms tightly across her chest._ "Always. _I was the last to know when you broke up with Stefan and I was the last to know that anything was going on between you and Damon. Now I'm the last to know about Emory – congratulations, by the way – and the fact that you're moving in with _Damon_." _

_Bonnie tossed off his name with disgust, leaving Elena stunned and immediately on the defensive. She hadn't expected Bonnie to be as enthusiastic as Caroline regarding her decision to live with Damon, but she hadn't anticipated outright hostility either. Running her hand through her hair and taking a breath, Elena did her best to stay calm. "What's bothers you more? The fact that I didn't tell you about the apartment or the fact that I'm going to be living there with Damon?" _

"_I just…" Bonnie hesitated, holding out her arms helplessly before letting them fall to her sides with an audible _thwap_. Her shoulders sagged as she murmured. "I just don't get it."_

"_Don't get what?" Elena demanded. "I_ love_ him, Bonnie."_

"_He's a_ vampire_, Elena," Bonnie countered._

Unbelievable_, Elena thought, shaking her head at her own wishful and stupid thinking. After all this time, after everything that Bonnie had been through and the countless times Damon had saved their collective asses, the witch still considered him more monster than man._ I'm such an idiot_. "Did it ever occur to you that I might not be in a big hurry to tell you things because I'm tired of being judged all the time?"_

"_Judged?" Bonnie repeated, her brows knitting together. "What are you talking about?"_

"_You hate vampires," Elena said, her temper rising steadily as she felt herself getting more and more agitated. "I get it. We_ all _get it. And if we ever forget, that pinched little line between your eyebrows is a consistent reminder." _

"_I don't hate…I don't hate_ all_ vampires," Bonnie argued weakly. _

"_Oh, so it's just Damon," Elena fired back. _

"_No!" Bonnie protested, shifting uncomfortably. _

"_Would you be okay with this if I were planning on moving in with Stefan?"_

"_No, Elena, I wouldn't," she stated emphatically. "And I don't_ hate_ Damon. I just don't want my best friend living with a vampire. _Any_ vampire."_

"_But I'm in love with a…I am in love with a_ vampire_," Elena replied, lowering her voice as a group of her fellow seniors exited the Starbucks. Offering them a nod and a tight-lipped smile, she waited until they were out of earshot before continuing. "We're practically living together now. I spend the night at his place as often as my own. So what difference does it make if it's here or in Atlanta?"_

"_It makes a difference," Bonnie insisted. "Here you've got an outlet. When you and Damon have a fight, you can go home. In Atlanta, there'll be nowhere to run."_

"_I don't want to run from him," Elena protested. "And we hardly ever fight."_

_Bonnie scoffed in disbelief. "You two fight constantly."_

"_We do_ not_," Elena argued. "We…argue, we disagree, but we don't_ fight."

"_Elena, every other week you're complaining about something stupid Damon did or said," Bonnie cried in exasperation. "But fine. Whatever, that's not the point."_

"_I'd love to hear what is," she muttered, clenching her jaw and crossing her arms. _

"_The point is I'm your best friend and if Caroline isn't going to tell you that you're making a mistake, then I guess it's on me." _

_Elena's jaw dropped. "A_ mistake?"

"_You thought that what you had with Stefan was epic, remember that?" Bonnie said. "You thought you'd found your soul mate. He helped you live again after what happened to your parents. You were with him for six months and then all of a sudden you're in love with Damon and_ he's_ the epic love. Next thing, you're willing to drink vampire blood and give up your_ humanity _for him."_

"_That's not fair," Elena hissed vehemently. "You make it sound like I woke up one day and just…decided to switch Salvatores. That's not how it happened and you_ know _it," she said, genuinely hurt that her best friend would make light of something that had caused her so much heartache. _

"_You're right, I'm sorry," Bonnie said, her tone softening. "I know that you love Damon. And I know he loves you, it's just…haven't you had enough of this? Enough of the vampires and the werewolves?"_

"_I'm getting a little tired of witches right now."_

"_I'm serious," Bonnie said, ignoring the slight. "Klaus is dead. It's been a year since anybody has been after you for being the doppelganger. You can get away from all of this and leave it behind. You have a chance to go to college, be normal, to live a_ human_ life. You don't have to settle for vampires and Mystic Falls just because that's all you know." _

_Reeling back as if she'd been physically slapped, Elena stared at her friend. "Wow. Settle?" Blinking furiously, she tried to hold back the tears of indignation that were suddenly burning behind her eyes. "You think I'm_ settling _with Damon? That he's…what? Some kind of high school phase?"_

"_No, Elena, that's not…that's not what I meant," Bonnie protested half-heartedly. _

"_It's exactly what you meant, Bonnie," Elena replied, swallowing hard. "I knew you never really approved of my relationship with Damon – or Stefan for that matter – but I thought you at least respected it."_

"_Elena-."_

"_I love Damon," Elena said, feeling like a broken record for having repeated the phrase so many times in the past ten minutes. "He's not a phase. He's not something I'm going to outgrow. Damon's a part of me and every day that I'm with him just reinforces that. I don't_ want_ a normal life if that means he can't be a part of it."_

_Brushing by Bonnie, Elena headed toward the doors on the other side of the food court that lead out to the parking lot._

"_Where are you going?" Bonnie called after her._

"_Home," Elena replied tersely, looking over her shoulder long enough to add. "To Damon."_

* * *

Remembering the fight, Elena tensed in Bonnie's arms. Rather than resolving the argument, they'd gone a week without speaking until the excitement of graduation had led to a flurry of vague apologies and hugs. They'd moved on like nothing had happened, although Elena _had _made an extra effort to keep Bonnie informed about her life.

Bonnie had never questioned Elena's commitment to Damon again.

Elena had convinced herself that Bonnie's feelings had changed, but based on the condolences pouring from her friend's lips, she'd been wrong once again. Pushing Bonnie away, Elena stated coldly. "This _is _what I wanted."

Bonnie frowned, hazarding a glance at Caroline. "What do you mean?"

"This is what I wanted, Bonnie," Elena repeated, wrapping her arms protectively around her torso and bracing herself for the inevitable frowns and sighs of disappointment. "I wanted to turn."

"Elena-."

"I know that it doesn't make sense to you and that you don't approve," she continued, trying to anticipate every objection her friend might have and nip it in the bud. "And it definitely isn't happening the way I thought it would, the way Damon and I had planned, but this is what I wanted…_want. _I love him, and as soon as Stefan gets back, I'm going to complete the transition."

"I know."

Elena frowned, certain she'd misunderstood. "You…you know. You know what?"

"I know that this is what you want," Bonnie explained, a tentative smile curving her lips. "And I'm okay with it. Not that you need my permission or anything," she added quickly.

Elena stared at Bonnie as a wave of relief crashed over her. She didn't need anyone's permission and hadn't been looking for it, but knowing that she had her friend's support did wonders for her frayed nerves. Opening her mouth to say thank you, Elena was shocked to hear the weak, half-sob that escaped her lips instead. "Really?"

"Really," Bonnie nodded.

Pulling her back into an impulsive hug, Elena held on tightly and whispered. "Thank you."

"I'm sorry I can't find Damon for you," Bonnie said a moment later after Elena had released her. "I've tried a bunch of different ways to modify the spell, but it just won't work."

Nodding, Elena stifled her rising panic at the mention of Damon's name. "It's okay."

"I feel completely useless," she continued. "I should have known. Back at the clearing. I should have been able to tell that you were in transition. Damon would never-."

"Bonnie, please," Elena interrupted, not wanting to think about the clearing, let alone discuss it. "It's okay. Really."

"I can make you a daylight ring, though," she replied, brightening visibly.

Thinking of the beautiful silver ring tucked away in its box back in Atlanta, Elena's heart constricted painfully. A part of her wanted to turn Bonnie down and wait for Damon to get back so he could give her that ring again, but her more practical side knew that was ridiculous and sentimental. Unless she wanted to spend the rest of the day indoors, she'd need some kind of protection against the sun.

Tucking her hair behind her ear, Elena forced a smile to her lips and did her best to sound grateful. "That would be great, Bonnie. Thank you."

Humming softly, Landis drew back the curtains of the old farmhouse, careful to avoid the suns final rays as it sank below the horizon. _The days are getting shorter, _he noted with gleeful anticipation, letting the curtains fall back into place. He couldn't wait for winter and its long, cold nights when he always had plenty of time to travel, to hunt…to _play. _

Turning away from the windows, he stepped over the drained bodies on the living room floor – the farmhouse's owners – and headed for the front door. Plucking a set of car keys from the convenient little wall hook on his way out, he left the door ajar, striding briskly toward the ancient truck parked near the barn.

Landis's stomach twisted as he eyed the large, wooden structure. All barns looked the same to him – isolated, menacing, a prison without bars – and he couldn't wait to put this one behind him.

_Time for a change of scenery_, he decided as he climbed into the truck and put the key in the ignition. After he checked in with Gregory, and laid low for a few months, he was going to put the rural wastelands behind him and spend a few decades in the city. Any city would do, just as long as there were plenty of humans to hide amongst…and hunt.

The truck was old but it started immediately, the engine purring like it had been treated as a prized possession. Giving the farmhouse and its dead occupants a small salute, Landis turned the vehicle around and sped off down the driveway in a cloud of dust and loose gravel.

The engine may have been well-cared for, but the suspension left much to be desired as the truck bounced, first down the driveway and then onto the gravel road that led to the highway. Clenching his jaw, Landis concentrated on driving – he rarely wasted his time with the motorized contraptions, preferring his own enhanced speed – and didn't relax until he turned onto the smooth expanse of blacktop that would take him back to South Carolina. In another three hours he'd be at The Crossroads, indulging in his brother's best blood and regaling the crowd with the story of his latest exploits.

Of course it hadn't all gone according to plan. Wistfully, Landis thought of Damon's sudden appearance in the clearing and all of the fun he'd missed out on with Elena. Physical violation wasn't his style, but something told him that making an exception with this human would have been worth it. Vividly, he recalled the way she'd writhed in his arms when she'd thought Damon had been biting her. _That _would have been fascinating to explore.

_Ah well, _he thought, settling back against the driver's seat and keeping his hands firmly on the steering wheel. He'd long ago accepted that even the best laid plans could fail and it was prudent to be flexible. His lips curled into a smile as he recalled the look of utter devastation on Damon's face as he'd shoved Elena over the cliff. It may not have been perfect, but if that look had been any indication, he'd definitely succeed.

Damon's suffering would be eternal. And exactly what he deserved.

* * *

"_Are you even going to get in dressed like that?"_

_Jerking awake with a start, Landis blinked in confusion._ I've gone blind_, he thought frantically, trying to discern shapes and remember where he was in the pitch blackness surrounding him. A sickly sweet odor assaulted his senses as he tried to place the familiar voice that had awakened him before everything clicked into place at once. _

_He was in Atlanta. _

_In a dumpster._

_The voice belonged to Elena Gilbert. _

_His prey. _

"_Elena, it's not a costume party," Damon Salvatore's voice carried to Landis' ears from outside of the dumpster. "I don't have to wear a fedora and a tie to get in."_

"_I'll bet you'd look good in a fedora," she replied, sounding distinctly closer to his hiding spot. Quietly, Landis shifted to a crouch, lifting the lid high enough to make certain that the sun had set before easing up to the gap and peering out. _

_He'd been hiding in the dumpster next to the building where Damon Salvatore had taken up residence with his human consort for nearly two weeks. Exiting only after dark, he'd followed Damon and Elena when they'd left the apartment, carefully memorizing their patterns as he skulked about in the shadows. _

_Thus far, Landis had come to two conclusions: first, Damon Salvatore had fallen completely and disgustingly in love with Elena Gilbert. A_ human_. _

_Landis' stomach rolled at the thought. _

_Secondly, Damon Salvatore led the most boring existence known to vampire. _

_In these last two weeks, Landis had followed Damon and Elena to a film festival, a free jazz concert in a nearby park, a craft fair – which Damon, to his credit, seemed to think had been mind-numbingly tedious – and a handful of bars of varying class. In all of that time, Landis had never seen Damon hunt, feed or kill, never seen him use compulsion, and never seen him utilize a single enhanced skill. _

_Damon Salvatore was living as a human and it was disgusting. _

"_I_ know _I look good in a fedora," Damon replied with every ounce of the smug arrogance Landis remembered from their days as business partners over eighty years ago._ At least that hasn't changed,_ he thought, easing the lid up higher so he could take a look at Elena. _

_Feeling like he'd stepped back in time, what he saw took his breath away._

_Wearing a burgundy, drop-waist, sleeveless dress that hit at mid-calf while plunging low in the front, Elena looked as if she'd walked right off of the pages of a 1920s women's fashion magazine. She'd twisted her long, stick-straight hair into an artfully arranged bun at the nape of her neck just below her right ear, complete with Marcel-style waves and a feathered headpiece. Ropes of pearls hung from her delicate, delectable throat, all the way to her waist. She'd even managed to find a pair of matching satin heels. _

_Landis wanted to devour her. _

"_Then why won't you wear one?" Elena asked, making the long, layered hem of her dress sway seductively as she sauntered up to Damon. Placing her hands on his hips, she leaned in close and peered at him with heavily kohl-lined eyes. _

"_Because after suspenders went out of style I swore I'd never wear one again," he replied, covering her hands with his own, effectively trapping her where she stood. "Besides, you're dressed up enough for the both of us."_

_Adopting an air of indifference, Elena shrugged. "Fine. But don't come whining to me when I'm the center of attention at this party and nobody even notices you." _

"_You have my word," Damon smirked, sliding his hands up her arms and drawing her closer to press a light kiss to her ruby painted lips. "No whining." _

_Elena grinned, kissing him again before pulling away to walk around the car. Blurring around the vehicle, Damon beat her to the passenger door, opening it for her and holding out a hand like a valet. Shocked at the rare display of vampirism, Landis's stomach roiled at the besotted grin on the other vampire's face as he closed the door and made his way sedately back to the driver's side. _

_Damon Salvatore was in love. With a_ human_._

_Oh, how the mighty had fallen._

_Waiting until the other vampire, backed his car out of his parking space and pulled out of the lot, Landis climbed out of the dumpster and geared up for the hunt. _

_He'd followed Damon nearly every night since he'd tracked the vampire down and this night proved easier than most. Avoiding freeways, Damon traversed the crowded streets of Atlanta, completely oblivious to the predator tracking his every move as Landis stalked him in the shadows._

_Landis followed his prey to the heart of downtown Atlanta. The authorities had blocked street access to a large park, allowing the humans to turn the entire outdoor space into an enormous replica of a 1920s speakeasy. Hiding in an alleyway as Damon helped Elena out of the car, Landis couldn't suppress his grin. _

This might actually be fun, _he thought, following his prey at a leisurely pace. Thick crowds lined the sidewalks, most dressed as Elena had in costumes reminiscent of the era, making Landis feel bold. For most of the evening, as Damon and his human roamed the park, dancing and drinking like Prohibition was still in effect, Landis hovered less than twenty feet away. _

This girl has ruined you,_ Landis lamented, eyeing Damon with disgust as he taught Elena a few 1920s dance moves, completely oblivious to his surroundings. The Damon_ he_ remembered would have known that he was there, would have pinned him to a wall and threatened to rip his heart from his chest if he didn't confess his motives for stalking him. _

_This Damon was so pathetically enamored, Landis was fairly certain that he could have drained a woman dry right next to him and he never would have noticed. _

_Before long, Elena succumbed to the alcohol and adrenaline of the highly charged atmosphere, wrapping her arms around Damon and pressing herself against him with little care for whomever might bear witness to her display of ardor. Sticking close as they hurried back to the car, Landis sighed with boredom as they indulged in a passionate clinch in the shadows between street lamps. Picking at his nails as Damon pressed her against the side of the vehicle, Landis didn't even bother to watch. _

_Most of their nights ended like this. At first, he'd watched carefully, waiting for the moment when Damon would sink his fangs into the admittedly beautiful human girl's throat, but the only thing the other vampire had done with his human's throat was slobber all over it. _

_Pitiful._

_Pathetic. _

_Just when he thought Damon was going to shove that burgundy dress up over Elena's pretty thighs and have his way with her right there in the street, the other vampire slipped his hand behind her back and opened the car door. Making a few mewling sounds of protest, Elena finally relinquished her hold on him long enough for him to speed around the car, dive behind the wheel and peel away from the curb._

_Retracing his previous route back to the apartments, Landis slid into the shadows to await their arrival. He knew they were heading home. Their goal had been obvious when they'd been draped all over Damon's car. The short ride would merely be a pause in the proceedings. _

_Within minutes, the Camaro careened into the complex's private lot, screeching to a halt next to the dumpster he'd been calling home for the past two weeks. Leaping from the vehicle, Damon blurred around to the passenger side and scooped Elena into his arms, his lips crashing against hers as he kicked the door shut with a foot. _

"_I had fun tonight," she murmured, languidly wrapping her arms around his shoulders – burgundy satin heels dangling from two fingers – and kissing him back with equal fervor. "Even though you didn't wear the fedora." _

"_I'll make it up to you," he promised, somehow keeping his grip on her as he opened the secured door Landis had yet to attempt to breech. _

"_How?" Elena wondered, tearing her lips away from his long enough for Damon to whisper something in her ear that Landis was too far away to hear. A peal of high-pitched, drunken laughter echoed through the empty parking lot and he was suddenly glad he'd been spared whatever sordid promise Damon had made. _

_A high-pitched_ ping _sounded as the door latched shut behind the lovebirds, locking them securely within the confines of the apartment building. Loathe to return to the dumpster, Landis decided to do some hunting to wash the taste of Damon's embarrassing display of humanity from his mouth. _

There's really no more denying it_, he admitted as he returned to the tableau of human flesh on display in the park. Damon Salvatore had fallen in love with Elena Gilbert. She'd become his world, his raison d'être. Damon looked at Elena as if the sun rose and set with her, as if the world spun on its axis because she wished it so. _

_Landis's stomach turned as disgust literally made him ill. _

_The only upside to Damon's all consuming love for Elena was that it simplified Landis's revenge. Elena was Damon's greatest weakness and the key to his ultimate suffering. Destroying her would destroy him._

_But why did it have to be so embarrassingly maudlin? _

_Sighing, Landis scanned the crowd, selecting a delicate looking blonde in an exquisite white lace flapper dress. Flashing a grin, he approached the girl, half of his mind primed for the kill while the other continued to lament the great vampire's downfall. _

_Rendering the blonde putty in his hands with the barest hint of compulsion, he lured her into the shadows of a large beverage tent. Sick of romantic preliminaries, he immediately attacked, sinking his fangs into her throat before her smile of anticipation faltered. Sucking down the hot, life-giving elixir that was her blood, Landis decided it was time to move on to phase two of his revenge. _

_Time to head to Virginia and a little town called Mystic Falls where he'd set his trap._

* * *

Turning off of the deserted highway and onto an even more deserted gravel road, Landis eyed the gas gage as the old truck stalled out and rolled to a stop. _Empty,_ he thought with a brief flash of annoyance. He should have stopped at the service station he'd passed fifteen miles back, but he'd been too close to his destination to waste the time.

_Ah well, that's why one has vampire speed, _he thought, climbing out from behind the wheel. Gravel crunched beneath his feet as he took off in the direction of The Crossroads, picking up more and more speed as he ran. Within minutes – and faster than if he'd been in the truck – the familiar old building, with its dilapidated Phillips 66, sign came into view.

A wave of fond nostalgia hit him as he slowed to a walk, brushing the dust from his bloodstained suit. The bar wasn't technically home, but it was the closest thing he had to it anymore. Stepping lightly and with enthusiasm, he made his way through the weeds around the building toward the entrance in back.

The cellar doors were flung open to the night sky, soft light and murmured voices spilling out from within. Landis's mouth watered as he thought of the blood he'd have when he got downstairs, not to mention the attention he'd receive from the patrons when he told them of the successful execution of his latest plan.

_My greatest plan,_ he thought smugly as he jogged down the steps. He'd gotten his revenge and beaten Damon Salvatore without spilling a drop of his own blood. The smug bastard who'd taken every opportunity to berate and belittle him – not to mention _kill _him – eighty years ago had finally gotten what he deserved.

_And he'll never know why,_ Landis realized, his glee growing exponentially. Only Elena had known about Klaus and she was dead, permanently broken into a hundred pieces. The questions and the grief would eat Damon alive for all eternity.

"Gregory!" Landis bellowed, spreading his arms wide as he entered the bar. "Pour me a shot of your best and get ready to congratulate me!"

Silence echoed throughout the bar, ringing alarmingly in Landis's ears. The exuberant grin on his face faltered as he glanced around at the expressionless patrons.

_No, not expressionless,_ he realized. _Terrified. _

What the hell was going on?

"Gregory?" Landis called again, dropping his arms as he turned toward the bar where he knew his brother would be. The man lived behind that bit of scarred wood.

_He'll probably die back there. _

The thought came to Landis unbidden, surprising him as he locked eyes with his brother. One look at Gregory's face and all of Landis's good cheer soured. "Gregory, what's wrong?"

"I told you not to," his brother said, shaking his head. "I _warned _you."

Before Landis could utter a word, the doors slammed shut, making him jump. In the same instant something sharp slammed into his back, immerging from his chest dripping blood and bits of flesh.

A stake.

_What the hell? _Landis wanted to demanded, but all he could muster was a wail of pain as he sagged against his mystery attacker. Craning his neck, he managed a glance over his shoulder, his jaw nearly hitting the floor as he locked eyes with a pair of deep brown ones he would have sworn had seen their last.

"Hi Landis," the beautiful brunette said with a wicked grin. "So glad you could make it."

"What's…happening?" he managed to utter before she twisted the stake, shredding his lungs and splintering his ribs.

"We're having a party," she replied.

Landis's knees buckled as heavy, booted footfalls sounded on the stairs and a moment later, the vampire he'd been so gleefully disparaging in his head only seconds early emerged from the shadows.

At least, it _looked _like the same vampire…until Landis got a closer look at his eyes.

The Damon Salvatore who had begged for Elena's life, who had dived after her with abject terror oozing from every pore, had disappeared. Standing before Landis in his place, was a much more familiar version of the same man. A version Landis had learned to hate and fear in equal measure during his first decade as a vampire.

This was the Damon Salvatore of legend, the one other vampires still talked about like some kind of mythical folk hero of their kind. It was the one Landis had hoped to destroy after he'd escaped from his three years of torture and the one – after watching him in Atlanta – he'd believed had no longer existed.

He'd been wrong

Very wrong.

"And the guest of honor has finally arrived," Damon sneered, looking at Landis with a cold, calculating gaze that rendered him speechless with fear. "Welcome home, Landis."

* * *

_AN Pt 2: Holy shit, you guys! The replies to the last chapter were unbelievable and wonderful and amazing. THANK YOU. An extra thank you to the guests and anonymous reviews that I can't send individual PM's to. I hope you all keep it up with the reviews - not just for me, but for all of the writers who's work you enjoy. _


	16. Verdict

_AN: This is a big chapter. I've been stressed about getting it right and after getting the corrected version back from my beta, I think I'm happy with it. Actually, I think it's one of my favorite chapters of the fic thus far. Now that I've hyped it up to ridiculous levels, I hope it doesn't let you down. LOL_

_Enjoy!_

Chapter Sixteen - Verdict

Snickering and shaking his head good-naturedly, Jeremy held the door open as Stefan carried a huge Styrofoam cooler into the Salvatore mansion. When Caroline had ordered them out on a blood run, he hadn't understood what she'd meant until Stefan had pulled into the parking lot of the hospital. A little compulsion later, he, Alaric, Tyler and Stefan had left with two coolers full of ill-gotten goods. It'd been just like those old heist movies, the three of them disappearing into the night with half of Mystic Falls' blood supply, the confused nurses and security guards none the wiser.

He was, officially, a criminal.

His parents would have been _so_ proud.

"Something funny, Jer?" Tyler asked, lugging the second cooler in as he followed Stefan.

"Just my life," Jeremy replied, closing the front door behind his fellow thieves. "I guess I didn't really think about what Caroline meant when she told us to go get blood."

"Well, you handled it like a pro," Stefan said, indicating to Tyler that he should follow him. "We'll take these downstairs."

Rubbing the back of his neck, Jeremy smiled wanly as the vampire and werewolf disappeared toward the back of the house. Elena's voice carried to him from the living room, beckoning him to join her, but a hand on his arm stopped him before he could take more than a step.

"Hold on a minute," Alaric said quietly, jerking a thumb over his shoulder toward an open door on the other side of the foyer. Frowning, Jeremy followed as the older man ducked inside the darkened library. Flipping on a table lamp, he added. "Close the door."

"Okay," Jeremy said warily as he did as he was told. "What's going on?"

Leaning against a desk, Alaric took a breath and asked. "How do you feel about this?"

"About what? Ripping off a blood bank?" Jeremy shrugged, knowing that if he thought about it long enough he'd probably feel a little guilty for stealing, but it wasn't like the blood was being wasted.

"About Elena," the teacher said. "About what she's about to do."

Oh. _That. _

Suddenly uncomfortable, Jeremy crossed his arms, lowering his gaze to the floor. "It doesn't matter what I think."

"It does to me."

"What am I supposed to say?" Jeremy asked. "That I don't want her to complete the transition? That's not true."

"So you're okay with her being a vampire?"

"No, that's…," Jeremy sighed, pressing his lips into a thin line. In a perfect world, the Salvatore brothers would have never returned to Mystic Falls – at least not in his lifetime – and he and Elena would have graduated from high school and grown up like normal human beings, blissfully unaware of the supernatural. They would have each gotten married, had kids and lived boring little lives until they'd died of old age – preferably in their sleep.

The world, however, was not perfect and Jeremy had long ago given up on thinking otherwise. The Salvatores weren't to blame for turning his and Elena's lives into an insane horror show. That fault, if he wanted to blame _anyone, _fell on his own family line. The Gilbert legacy had been founded along with the town, and the only thing that would have changed if Damon and Stefan had put off their homecoming for another century – or even a decade – was that Klaus would have succeed in killing Elena. Permanently. Her doppelganger blood had nothing to do with them.

"Okay, fine," he said, uncrossing his arms and lifting his chin. "I'm not thrilled that Elena's going to be a vampire, but I knew this was going to happen eventually. And to be honest, if it means I get to keep my sister, then so be it."

* * *

_Jeremy grinned as he surveyed the spacious hotel suite that was at least ten times the size of his dorm room. Decorated in a neutral palate, the room had been arranged into separate sleeping and living areas by the artful arrangement of the furniture. A loveseat and two arm chairs faced the balcony that overlooked the city while a huge flat screen TV dominated the Southern wall – easy to see from both the queen-sized bed as well as the couch. _

Not bad,_ he thought, flipping the light switch on in the bathroom and taking in the Jacuzzi bathtub and stand-alone shower._ I could totally get used to this.

_His enthusiasm was a change from his initial reaction to Elena's impromptu visit. He'd barely been in Colorado a month and while he missed his sister, he'd been enjoying the complete and utter normalcy of college and the lack of anything supernatural. _

_Vampires included._

_That attitude had swiftly changed the second Elena had handed him a key card and informed him that they'd reserved a room for him at their hotel as well. _

"_You know, you guys really didn't have to do this," he called, turning toward the open doorway connecting his room to the one next door. "My room at the dorm is fine."_

"_Sometimes it's better to just let Damon spend money," Elena replied, hanging onto the doorframe as she leaned into his room. _

"_Oh, so this was all his idea?" Jeremy asked, raising a brow skeptically. _

"_I_ might_ have suggested getting you a room, too," Elena admitted with a grin as she entered the room. Sitting down on the bed, she took her own visual survey of the space. "If it makes you feel any better, ours is bigger." _

_Crossing the room, he crouched in front of the entertainment center. "Think he'd mind if I broke into the mini-bar?"_

"_Wait half an hour and I'm sure he'll join you," Elena replied dryly. Deciding to save the bar for later, Jeremy rose to his feet and flopped down on the mattress. Lying on his back, he propped his head on his bent arm and gazed at the ceiling._

_After a few moments, Elena followed his lead, settling back against the pillows and lacing her fingers over her stomach. The comfortable silence lingered for another minute before she cleared her throat and spoke. "Can I ask you something, Jer?" _

_The hesitancy in her tone put him on guard instantly. "Um…do I have a choice?"_

"_Excuse me?"_

"_Historically, nothing good has ever come from the question 'can I ask you something, Jer'," he replied, glancing at his sister out of the corner of his eye. "So, why don't you just rip the band-aid off and ask?"_

_Struggling to suppress a grin, Elena scoffed. "Alright, smartass," she said, dropping her gaze and picking at the bedspread. "Do you like Damon?" _

_Taken aback, Jeremy was momentarily at a loss for words. "Sure?"_

"_Is that an answer or another question?" she asked, raising a brow._

"_Why are you asking me this now?" he wondered. "I mean, you've been with him for like, two years, isn't it a little late to ask for my approval?" _

"_I'm not looking for your approval," Elena replied vaguely, falling silent for several minutes as Jeremy studied her expression for some clue as to where the conversation was going. _

"_What is this really about, Elena?" he finally asked, after it became clear that she wouldn't offer up any more information without a little prodding. _

_Biting her lip, she lifted her shoulder in a half-hearted shrug. "I just realized I'd never asked you," she said, rolling onto her side after a moment and propping her head up on her fist. "I guess it doesn't matter, but…I really want the two of you to be friends."_

Friends?_ Jeremy frowned._ She wants Damon and me to be friend?_ Despite the amount of time he'd spent with Damon over the past few years, he'd never considered the question. Before the vampire had officially started dating his sister, Jeremy had never thought of him in terms of 'like', it had always been in terms of wary trust and respect. Because of Elena, he'd known that he had a place on Damon's short list of people worthy of consideration, but it had taken awhile for him to feel like he'd made it to that list on his own merit. _

_Years, actually._

"_I like Damon," he said carefully. "He's good to you." _

_Letting out a sigh of relief, Elena smiled. "Good. I'm glad." _

"_Does_ he _like _me_?" Jeremy asked, punching his sister playfully on the arm to lighten the mood._

"_Actually, I think he does," she laughed, hitting him back. Feigning outrage, he hid a self-satisfied grin as he reached for the TV remote. Elena didn't need to know how much that pleased him. "And since there are about five people on the planet Damon genuinely likes, I'd take that as a compliment of the highest order." _

_The conversation fell into a comfortable lull as Jeremy hit the power button and surfed through the hotel cable until he found ESPN. Settling into a recap of the weeks' college football games, twenty minutes passed before Jeremy realized something wasn't right. _

_Elena hadn't complained about his program of choice yet._

_Further proof that there was more to this impromptu visit than what Elena had let on._

"_What's wrong, Elena?" he asked._

"_Hmmm?" she replied, raising her brows and looking at him in surprise for a moment before her expression shifted into one of feigned innocence. "Nothing. Nothing's wrong. What makes you think something's wrong?"_

"_You haven't bitched about the channel once," he replied, gesturing at the flat screen TV with the remote. "Something else has to be on your mind."_

_Biting her lip, Elena played with her silver bracelet for a moment. "Well now that you mention it, there was something else I wanted to ask you," she admitted as her gaze darted between his face and her hands. Taking a breath, she continued in a rush. "How would you feel if I were to turn? Into a vampire. Hypothetically speaking because it's just an idea and nothing's been decided." _

"_You want to be a vampire?" Jeremy yelped, lurching to a seated position as he stared at her in disbelief. "Elena! What the hell, are you insane?"_

"_Jeremy-no. I'm not insane," she replied evenly, apparently willing to meet his eye now that she'd asked her crazy question. Sitting up as well, she continued. "Calm down, I told you it was just hypothetical." _

"_Hypothetical, my ass," he retorted. "Did Damon put you up to this? Did he ask you to-."_

"_Jeremy, stop," Elena said, putting her hands on his shoulders. "Damon didn't do anything. He didn't ask me to turn. This is my idea and my question and I want an answer. How would you feel?"_

_Staring at his sister, Jeremy could do more than gape helplessly as he struggled to pin down a coherent response. He'd been willing to turn once – for Anna and then as an escape from the pain of his stupid existence – but that had been a long time ago. Considering everything that had happened since that night, it felt like a lifetime ago. He'd run the gamut in his feelings about vampires, from love and fascination to fear and hate, before landing somewhere in the middle with respect and awe. _

_After they'd killed Klaus and he'd made it through his junior and senior years in high school without any of the football players dying in mysterious animal attacks, Jeremy had stopped seeing Caroline and Damon as supernatural creatures of the night. They were just…his friends – closer than friends considering what they'd gone through. They were his family. _

_But that didn't mean he was okay with his sister_ becoming_ one._

_Did it?_

"_Elena-."_

"_You know, what?" she cut in, waving her hand dismissively as she let go of his shoulders. "Just forget I asked. It was a stupid question." _

_Scooting off of the bed, she started to head back toward her room. Sighing, Jeremy followed her, not wanting to start the weekend with a fight. "Elena, wait," he said, taking her arm and forcing her to stop in the doorway between the rooms. Tucking her hair behind her ear, she worked her gaze up to meet his. _

_Studying his sister's face, Jeremy saw the hope behind her tentative gaze. He couldn't speak for Damon, but he'd known Caroline before and after her transition. He'd go to his grave before he admitted it to the blonde, but he much preferred her as a vampire. She may have technically turned into a monster, but in the ways that mattered, Caroline had become more human. If turning amplified a human's strongest qualities, Elena would end up the most compassionate, protective and_ forgiving _vampire that had ever existed. _

"_You're my sister and I love you," he began, hoping it was enough of an answer for her. At the end of the day, she was his family, and that was all that mattered. It was the_ only _thing that mattered. "And that won't change. Ever. Hypothetical or not."_

_A brilliant smile blossomed across Elena's face as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and pulled him in for a tight hug. "Thanks, Jer."_

* * *

Pacing in front of the empty fireplace, Elena did her best to breathe around the nerves that were twisting her stomach into knots. It was almost time. The boys had returned from the blood run and in a matter of minutes, Stefan would climb back up the creaky stairs from the basement with a blood bag for her to drink.

To complete the transition.

_Not a moment too soon, _she thought, as she passed by the couch where Bonnie and Caroline were sitting. The witch's masking spell had worn off and Elena had been too self-conscious about her own weakness to tell her friends that her senses were getting stronger. She could smell the blood pumping through Bonnie's veins and hear her heartbeat. Her gums had started throbbing with a constant, dull ache and her eyes were itching. She was still in control, but the bloodlust was getting more difficult to ignore.

"Hey," Jeremy said as he and Alaric entered the room.

"How'd it go?" Elena asked, knowing full well that they'd succeeded.

"Smooth," Alaric replied, giving her a quick once over. "How are you doing?"

"I'm…," she looked around, taking in the expectant expressions on Bonnie, Alaric and Jeremy's faces. _I'm losing it, _she thought, locking eyes with Caroline and willing her to understand. If she didn't complete the transition soon, she was afraid she'd lunge for the closest human throat. "I'm okay."

"Elena," Stefan said, suddenly appearing with Tyler in the arched doorway of the living room with a blood bag in hand. She nearly bit through her lip trying to hold back a whimper of need.

"I'll take that," Caroline stated, snatching the bag from Stefan's hand and leaning in to whisper something into his ear that Elena's senses weren't sensitive enough to catch. The vampires exchanged a look before Stefan nodded.

"What?" Elena asked. "What is it?"

"Let's go into the kitchen," Caroline said, blurring across the room and taking Elena by the elbow. "It'll be safer."

"Safer?" Bonnie asked, her brow creasing with worry as she rose from the couch. "What do you mean, safer?"

Elena's shoulder's sagged as understanding dawned. "Safer for you guys," she explained, watching Caroline's expression carefully. "In case I…lose control."

An awkward silence descended upon the room, making Elena want to curl up into a ball on the floor and disappear with embarrassment. Fleetingly, she thought of Damon and how much simpler this would have been if she'd been transitioning with him in their apartment in Atlanta.

"Oh, this is ridiculous," Caroline huffed, rolling her eyes as she glared at their friends. "Stop acting like I'm taking her off to face a firing squad. Transitioning is hard. It's weird and intense and having to worry about whether or not she's going to chew your faces off will just make this harder on Elena, so…if you'll excuse us, we're going to go drink some blood."

For a moment, no one said a word. Elena stared, wide-eyed, at her best friend, unsure whether to laugh or cry. A second later, Jeremy decided it for her, his laughter breaking through the tense silence.

"Wow, Care. Wow," he chucked before turning his reassuring gaze to Elena and offering her a genuine smile that reached his eyes. "We'll be here when you get back, sis."

Relieved, Elena nodded before drawing a deep breath and turning to Caroline. "I'm ready," she replied, answering the blonde's unspoken question. Following Caroline through the foyer and into the Salvatore kitchen, her anxiety increased tenfold with every step. By the time she'd crossed the threshold, her body was buzzing so hard she felt like she was going to take flight.

Without any build up or words of advice, Caroline fiddled with the tube on the bag before presenting it to Elena. "Here you go."

She gaped slightly before swallowing convulsively, fighting the seductive scent of blood emanating from the bag. The ache in her gums sharpened to two precise points, just like in the shower. Elena wanted what was in that bag. Needed it. Needed it with an intensity that she'd never experienced before. The only thing stopping her from snatching the bag from Caroline's hands was the fact that she wasn't sure what she was supposed to do.

"So I just…how do I…," Elena stammered, letting out a strangled little gasp over her inability to think beyond the promise of the thick, red, blood. Squeezing her burning eyes shut, she whispered through clenched teeth. "What do I do?"

"Suck it out," Caroline replied, her voice calm and steady as if the blood didn't bother her in the least. "Like a juice box."

"Can't I have a…a glass?" she gasped, wondering where she found the strength – the _insanity _– to question Caroline's instructions instead of ripping the bag out of her hands.

"Trust me, Elena," she said. "You want to drink your dinner, not wear it."

"O-okay," she replied, taking the bag from Caroline with shaking fingers. Breathing shallowly, she hazarded a glance at her friend as she brought the tube to her lips. At the blonde vampire's encouraging nod, Elena closed her eyes and took a tentative pull.

The blood hit her tongue, lukewarm and metallic, making her gag. It was different than Damon's – thicker and sickeningly sweet. She would have thrown the bag across the room if Caroline hadn't been there, gently holding the back of her head and forcing her to keep the tube between her lips as she murmured encouragements. "It's kind of awful at first, but it gets better. The more you drink now, the easier it will be to be around humans."

Nodding, Elena braced herself for another sip, deciding to rip the band-aid off and suck down as much as she could at once. _Just get it over with, _she thought, swallowing her first mouthful of blood. It slid sluggishly down her throat, coating every inch before pooling in her belly. The blood warmed her from within as it spread slowly outward through her body.

The sensation was…not completely awful.

Radiating from the core of her being, the warmth traveled upward, wrapping around her heart and lungs and jolting them with what felt like an electrical charge. Her pulse thundered like a bass drum throughout her body, making her fingers and toes throb as her heart slammed against her ribs.

_Holy fucking shit, _she thought, momentarily distracted from the blood as the warmth began to travel faster through her limbs, melting away layers of insulation that she hadn't realized had been separating her from the world. She felt _everything_ – the individual threads of her clothing, the slippery plastic between her fingers, the single strands of hair that were framing her face and the weight of Caroline's hand on her arm – each finger pressing into her flesh with varying intensity.

_More. _

Elena gave in to the simple, basic need, sucking down the blood in one large gulp after another. Gradually, it stopped tasting like liquid pennies scraped off of the floor, the superficial qualities that had made her gag giving way to the pulsing, electric _life _underneath. Damon had been right, it didn't taste like wine, it tasted like _blood, _but it was somehow the most intoxicating thing she'd ever consumed. It quenched the thirst, soothed the ache in her gums and the burning behind her eyes as every nerve ending, every synapse in her brain seemed to fire at once.

She needed more. She needed it _all. _

Falling to her knees, Elena gripped the deflating bag with both hands, pulling hard on the makeshift straw tubing. She forgot about Damon, forgot about Caroline standing right next to her, forgot about her friends and family in the other room as the euphoria of _feeding _took over her entire being. Tilting her head back, she whimpered and squeezed the bag, desperate for every last drop.

"Okay, Elena," Caroline said, her voice seemingly harsh and loud as she pried the nearly empty bag from Elena's clutching fingers. "It's gone."

Gasping and coughing, Elena fell forward, catching herself on her hands. She gripped the floor of the kitchen, feeling every pore in the stone tiles as she tried to find her equilibrium. The blood was swirling through her veins, distracting her, drowning her with the desire for _more_. "Caroline…"

"I know. Just breathe," she ordered, rubbing Elena's back as she held onto her arm, grounding her in the present moment. "Breathe, Elena. It'll be okay."

She struggled to comply, squeezing her eyes shut and sucking in a ragged breath in spite of the crippling need that was assaulting her from every side. She wanted to glut herself on blood, to bathe in it until it sunk into her pores and put her on a permanent high. _Is this what it's like?_ she wondered weakly, the thought a mere whisper amidst the cacophony of desires beating in her brain. Is this what Damon and Caroline felt every minute of every day? Is this what she'd have to control, to fight at all times to keep from turning into a raging blood fiend?

A Ripper, like Stefan had been?

Lowering her forehead to the cool kitchen floor, she felt hot tears escape her tightly closed lids. God, she couldn't…

_Breathe, Elena, _she thought. _Just breathe. _

An eternity seemed to pass as she laid half on the kitchen floor and half in Caroline's lap. The painful _need _ebbed as the roaring rush of blood died down. The noise in her head quieted as well, allowing her fully-heightened senses to pick up on other things – Caroline's soft, soothing words as she smoothed her hand through Elena's hair in an calming rhythm, the ragged gasps of her own tortured breathing, the hum of electricity going into the refrigerator and the ceiling light overhead.

Fascinated, Elena listened harder, letting more sounds filter through. A faucet dripped in the bathroom down the hall as a tree branch scraped against the window of the library. Hearing murmured voices in the living room, she trained her focus on those sounds, trying to make out the words. Instead, she discovered something else.

Three heartbeats – similar and yet completely different – each signifying a living, breathing human being with veins full of warm, rich blood.

Bonnie. Alaric. Jeremy.

Elena wanted them all.

* * *

The blood in Katherine's veins sang with violent glee as she twisted the stake, driving it deeper into Landis's back. It had been a long time since she'd held an adversary's life in the palm of her hand and she'd missed the thrill.

"D-Damon," Landis stammered, glancing around the bar at the other patrons who sat silently in their seats. _They're not going to help you, Landis, _she thought, relishing the way they all kept their attention focused on their drinks or their shoes – anywhere but on the staked vampire blubbering in their midst. After learning her and Damon's names, their little audience had been eager to fall in line.

Nothing like fear to make even the most simple-minded behave themselves.

Katherine just _loved _having a reputation.

Landis's body trembled as he asked. "What-what are you going to do to me?"

Damon cocked his head, studying him with a smirk curving his lips and an empty, fathomless void behind his eyes. Katherine waited, as fascinated with Damon's utter detachment as she was with Landis's fear. She'd been pissed that he hadn't told her his plan, but she had to admit she was enjoying the spontaneity of the moment.

Shifting his gaze to her and winking, Damon went to the nearest wooden table, flipping it onto its side before snapping off two of the legs, effectively outfitting himself with a couple of long, sturdy stakes.

"No. No, please," Landis immediately began to sputter as Damon sauntered toward him, studying the newly minted weapons. Frowning, Katherine adjusted her grip. Was he going to end it already? That would be disappointing. Flicking his gaze toward the stake, Damon nodded almost imperceptibly. Pressing her lips into a tight, disapproving line, Katherine yanked the stake out, dissatisfaction coursing through her as Landis continued to blubber. _All foreplay and no follow through, _she thought, shaking her head. _That is no way to-_

In a blur of movement, Landis and Damon disappeared. A loud _thunk _followed by an agonized scream drew her gaze to the wall opposite the entrance. What she saw brought the smile back to her lips.

Driving the stakes through Landis's shoulders, Damon had pinned him to the wall a few inches off of the floor, rendering his arms useless. Katherine whistled in appreciation.

The game had officially begun.

A noise to her right drew her attention to the bar. Bracing his arms against the wooden surface, Gregory hovered, poised to leap over the barrier and rush to his brother's rescue. "Damon, don't-."

Blurring toward the bar, Katherine seized the vampire by the front of his shirt, lifting him off of the ground. "I wouldn't," she warned, waiting for him to nod that he'd received the message before lowering him back to his feet. Brushing imaginary dust off of his shoulders, she straightened his collar and added. "Just enjoy the show."

Reaching into his jacket, Damon retrieved a hunting knife from the inside pocket. "I have this friend," he said, removing a small bottle from his other pocket as the polished silver blade flashed in the dim lighting. Flipping the top, he started coating the blade with the contents of the bottle. "Actually, he's my only friend, but that's not really the point."

"What are you doing?" Landis whimpered, kicking his legs against the wall as he tried in vain to get away. A familiar smell carried across the room to Katherine and she winced.

_Vervaine. _Damon was coating the blade with vervaine.

"I'm telling you a story, now shut up," Damon ordered without sparing Landis a glance. She heard something sizzling and caught the faint scent of burning flesh as a few drops fell on Damon's hands.

He didn't even flinch.

Capping the bottle, he shoved it back into his pocket, brandishing the knife as he approached Landis. "The funny thing about my friend is that he's a hunter. He hunts…_us._"

"Us?"

"Vampires," Damon clarified, advancing with slow, measured steps until he was close enough to press the point of the blade into the hollow at the base of his throat. Landis whimpered as the pale skin began to sizzle. "Werewolves, too, and the occasional hybrid," he added, flicking his wrist to draw the first drops of Landis's blood. "But mostly, vampires."

"Why are you telling me this?"

Casually Damon made a jagged slash through the younger vampire's neck. The captive vampire's eyes widened as blood poured from the wound. Eyeing the knife thoughtfully, Damon answered. "Because he let me borrow some of his toys."

* * *

_Katherine lingered in the shadows across the street from the bar, seething silently as she waited for the last person to stumble out of the door. The plan, her carefully constructed, painstakingly executed plan, was dangerously close to falling apart and it was all the fault of that goddamn witch. Damon Salvatore and her mousy little doppelganger Elena Gilbert had been in the bar all fucking day long. _

_Bree had some explaining to do._

And she better pray that I like her answers,_ Katherine thought as the neon lights in the windows flickered and went out. A few moments later, Bree appeared in the doorway and peered out into the night before drawing the shade and disappearing from view. Taking that as her cue, Katherine blurred across the street, shoved the door open and strode purposefully inside. _

"_What did you tell him?" she demanded, heading straight for the bar. _

"_Nothing," Bree quickly assured her. _

"_Don't lie to me, Bree," Katherine cautioned, grabbing a bottle of tequila from the wall and taking a shot straight out of the bottle. "If Damon finds out-."_

"_He won't," the witch replied with confidence. _Too much confidence,_ Katherine thought, narrowing her eyes as the other woman sauntered up to the bar. _

"_What makes you so sure?" _

"_He's dead."_

_Katherine snorted. "Sure, he is." She hadn't seen Damon in nearly one hundred and fifty years, but she'd kept tabs on him. Better men – and women – had tried to kill him and all had failed. Taking another swig of the tequila, she waited for Bree to admit that she was full of it, but the witch gazed at her evenly. Setting the bottle of alcohol down on the polished counter, Katherine felt a twinge of unease. "You expect me to believe that_ you_ killed Damon Salvatore?" _

"_I didn't start the fire," Bree admitted with a shrug. "But I lit the match."_

Jesus Christ, she's serious._ "Why?"_

"_It doesn't concern you, Katherine."_

"Everything_ concerns me," she replied, wondering immediately about Stefan. What the hell would he do without his brother? "That's how I've stayed alive for so long. What about Elena Gilbert? Did you kill her, too?" _

"_No," Bree shook her head, straightening out a pile of napkins. "She'll be okay. I'll make sure she gets home safely." _

"_You'd better be right about that," Katherine muttered, struggling to remain outwardly calm while inside she was raging. Damon was inconsequential, but the doppelganger mattered. Elena Gilbert needed to stay alive. _

_At least until Katherine could put her plan into motion. _

"_So, what's next?" Bree asked, gazing at her in a way that she'd always appreciated. The witch wasn't afraid of her, but she respected her, understood that Katherine could rip her apart in less than a heartbeat if the mood struck her. _

_At the moment, however, Katherine didn't know what kind of mood she was in and she needed to reassess. _

"_Nothing yet. Not until the Gilbert girl gets back to Mystic Falls," Katherine replied before gripping the bottle of tequila loosely around the neck, snagging a shot glass and carrying it with her as she made her way to one of the more private booths in the back of the bar. Bree – either out of a sense of self-preservation or extreme patience – made no move to follow her. _

_Pouring herself a shot, Katherine lost herself in the alcohol, savoring the burn as it slid down her throat. Damon Salvatore was dead. _Damn_. She was going to need a few days – weeks, months – for that one to fully sink in. Listening to the sounds of the witch as she closed down the bar for the night, Katherine closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the tall booth. Bree had done Damon a favor, really. The poor, pathetic sap had spent his entire existence trying to free her from that tomb. Now, at least, he was out of his misery. _

Focus, Katherine,_ she thought. Now was not the time to get distracted by sentiment. Klaus was closing in. She could practically_ feel_ the Original's breath on the back of her neck. The only thing that mattered was the plan – protecting the doppelganger until she could broker a truce and hand Elena Gilbert over. _

Maybe then I can finally relax.

_Halfway through the formerly full bottle, Katherine heard a noise that didn't fit with the soft bustling of the witch as she closed up shop. Years of being on her own had her tensing, straining her ears and her supersensitive hearing to pinpoint the source of the sound. Before she was able to lock it down, something else assaulted her heightened senses. _

_The distinctive scent of gasoline. _

_The pattern of Bree's movements stopped abruptly, but she made no sound of distress. _

"_We were just leaving. I wanted to say goodbye." _

_Closing her eyes, Katherine let the voice she hadn't heard in two lifetimes wash over her. She'd recognize it anywhere. Damon Salvatore. A smirk curved her lips._ So much for being dead.

"_Good to see you again, Damon," Bree said, doing a piss-poor job of hiding her surprise and terror. Katherine could smell it growing stronger under the tequila and gasoline. _

"_No kiss?" Damon mocked._

"_I'm full of vervaine," the witch announced. "I put it in everything I drink."_

"_And you're telling me this why?"_

"_Lexi was my friend," Bree murmured defiantly. "How could you?"_

_Katherine's eyes snapped open. Lexi was_ dead_? That little do-gooder bitch had finally been wiped off the face of the Earth and_ Damon _had been the one to do it? _

_The world would never cease to amaze her._

_Katherine's gaze was drawn to the window as a flash of movement reflected off of the glass. Damon blurred around Bree, who'd made the amateur mistake of turning her back on a vampire. _

_Or maybe she thought that she could trust him. _

"_The tomb can be opened," the witch said quickly, desperately, as Katherine watched the tableaux unfold with unchecked fascination. Was that_ Damon_? Clothed in black and radiating lethal violence and seething anger, a vision completely at odds with her memories of him. She'd only caught glimpses of him throughout the day and while his wardrobe had improved considerably since she'd seen him last, she hadn't noticed the change in attitude._

Wow_, she thought._ Vampirism has treated him well.

"_You're lying," he hissed after a moment, advancing on Bree._

"_Emily's grimoire, her spell book," Bree stammered, her usual calm unraveling at an alarming rate. "If you know how she closed the tomb, the reversal will be in her book. You can open that tomb."_

"_And where is this book?" Damon asked, his black, furious gaze the only indication of the anger raging inside of him. The witch hesitated, nearly whimpering in her fear. "You have no idea," he continued in disgust._

"_I am telling you the truth," she insisted as Damon backed her into the bar, trapping her like an animal._

Like prey.

_Then, to Katherine's surprise – and disappointment – his demeanor softened. "And I believe you," he replied as she held back a snort of contempt. _This _was the Damon she remembered – sentimental, gullible…weak. He'd succumbed to her charms so easily, so completely back in 1864, that she hadn't even been able to enjoy the thrill of the hunt. _

_Hell, she hadn't even had to_ compel_ him. The change that she'd first seen when he'd entered the bar had apparently been a superficial one. He was still the same Damon Salvatore that she'd so easily seduced and discarded._

_Caressing the witch's face, Damon tilted his head. "My dear, sweet Bree." _

Poor pathetic bastard,_ Katherine thought, rolling her eyes._

"_That's why I'm almost sorry," he admitted, his voice hardening as he plunged his hand into Bree's chest, right below her ribcage. The witch's gasp masked Katherine's similar, involuntary response. Gripping the edge of the table she watched Damon dispassionately rip Bree's heart from her body. The emotional part of her brain screamed at her to stop him, to save her plan. She needed the witch to secure her freedom from Klaus. _

_The logical part of her, however, knew that even if she were to unmask herself now, and shove her blood down the dying witch's throat, there was nothing she could do to saveBree. Decapitation and ripped out hearts were two methods of death that she was powerless against. _

_Fuck. Now she'd have to call in a favor with the Bennetts. _

_Damon let Bree fall, her lifeless body collapsing into a heap on the floor. Glancing around the bar, his expression remained aloof as he turned his back on what remained of the witch. Retrieving his jacket, he made his way toward the door and, without looking back, slipped silently into the night. _

_Katherine sat in the booth, replaying the scene over and over in her mind as the scent of gasoline faded and the heady aroma of Bree's blood filled the air. Damon Salvatore had killed her witch – a woman he'd cared about at one time if Bree's stories were to be believed – leaving her scrambling. Katherine wanted to be pissed. She wanted to race out of the bar, reveal herself to Damon and watch his poor, simpering heart break into tiny little pieces as he realized she'd been alive, well…and able to find him at any time._

_But she didn't – she couldn't. The longer she sat in the booth in that deathly silent bar, the more she realized that she wasn't mad. _

_She was proud. _

* * *

The scent of blood and vervaine permeated the bar, dripping from Landis's open wounds as Damon admired his handiwork. In addition to the long gash on Landis's neck, Damon had sliced open the major arteries in the younger vampire's arms and legs, leaving his clothing to hang from his useless body in tatters. The vervaine dipped blade had stunted Landis's ability to heal, leaving the vampire whimpering and moaning unintelligibly in unending agony as his blood pooled on the ground at his feet.

Then Damon had gotten creative.

Working at a methodical, unhurried pace, he'd broken Landis's fingers, snapping each individual bone before moving onto the next one. Three snaps per finger, five fingers per hand, Damon had made the torture last.

Like a mad scientist conducting a freakish experiment, he'd then poured more vervaine onto the blade and held Landis's eyelid open. He'd pressed the blade to the vulnerable eye as Katherine had watched the eyeball literally melt within the socket before running down the younger vampire's cheek in a boiling mess of goo.

_Where did he learn to do this? _Katherine wondered, taking in the macabre artistry in the torture as she kept Gregory in his p lace. The half-dozen terrified vampires who'd made the mistake of deciding to buy their dinner instead of hunting for it that night were staring openly, having abandoned all pretense of minding their own business. Turning her attention to Damon, she tried to peer beyond the killer's façade to the ruined man she knew was lurking just below the surface. She needed to know how close he was to breaking.

He wasn't. The switch was still intact.

_Of course, Landis is still alive, _she thought, narrowing her eyes. _There's time. _

"Not bad," Damon said, tossing the knife into the air and catching it, over and over again. Landis lifted his head, watching the bloody blade with a lone, dull eye as if hypnotized. In a flash of black, Damon blurred back toward the captive vampire, ramming the knife into his chest directly beneath his sternum. Landis screamed as Damon angled the blade upwards, no doubt piercing his heart.

Stepping back, he left the knife embedded in Landis's body as he shrugged. "Even though I'm a little out of practice."

"Enough, Damon," Gregory yelled, startling the patrons with his sudden outburst. Katherine glared at him, fisting his shirt and preparing to drag him over the bar and throw him to the floor, but Damon beat her to it.

Blurring toward them, he grabbed the bartender by the arm and hauled him roughly over the wooden barrier before tossing him to the floor. The calm, cool Damon Salvatore melted away to reveal the seething fury that was fueling his actions. "I warned you, Gregory," he hissed, crouching over him. "How many times did I warn you what I would do if you failed to keep your fucking brother in line?"

"Damon," Landis sputtered weakly, drawing Katherine's attention away from the vampires on the floor. "Stop, please."

"I should have killed you eighty years ago," Damon sneered, wrapping his fingers around Gregory's throat. "Both of you."

"It's not his fault," Landis protested, finding his voice and gaining strength in his fear and concern for his brother's life. "He didn't…" Trailing off, his eyes widened with manic excitement. "Damon, you don't have to do this. There's something you don't know. Something I didn't realize. Elena might not-."

Abandoning Gregory, Damon blurred across the room and slammed Landis's head into the wall hard enough to splinter the wood. Katherine's heart sank as the veins around his eyes leapt to the surface.

Goddamn it. The switch had broken.

_Why the hell did he have to say her name? _she wondered, making her way to Gregory's prone body and placing a booted foot on his chest. "Stay the fuck down," she muttered, crossing her arms as she watched Damon with concern.

She could see his emotions – rage, guilt, hopelessness – slam into him all at once. She watched him absorb it.

Feed off of it.

_Fuck._

"Do _not_ say her name," Damon roared, clamping his hand over the dazed vampire's mouth. Reaching into his pocket, he retrieved something small and silver. His fingertips blistered as he held a bracelet up for Landis to see before shoving it into his mouth and down his throat. "That's the last fucking thing you get to say. Ever."

Blood bubbled up, muffling Landis's shrieks of pain as it spilled past his lips and dribbled down his chin. Relief coursed through Katherine as Damon turned around with the mask of indifference and detachment firmly in place. Leaving Landis to writhe helplessly against the wall, choking on his own blood, he blurred back toward her, gripping her by the arms. Katherine frowned. "Damon, what-."

"Clear out the bar," he said quietly, his features set in an expressionless mask. "All of the alcohol. Pour it over every wooden surface and vampire in here."

Taken aback when she put two and two together, she stared at him. "Are you serious?"

His eyes gleamed as he cocked his head and mocked. "Don't tell me you're getting squeamish now."

"Of course not," she snapped, shaking out of his grasp. "I'm just surprised that you aren't."

Sneering at her, he stepped back before hauling Gregory off of the floor and dragging him over to Landis. Keeping an eye on the proceedings, Katherine ducked behind the bar and grabbed four bottles at random off of the rail.

"Did you know what your brother had planned?" Damon asked, gripping Gregory by the back of the neck and holding him in place directly in front of Landis. Katherine popped the pour spouts out of her chosen bottles and took two in each hand. A loud snap echoed throughout the bar as Damon broke Gregory's arm. "Did you?"

"Yes," Gregory admitted, sagging in Damon's arms.

"You knew," Damon replied as Katherine leapt up onto the bar, emptying the contents of the bottles as she walked it's complete length and the alcohol flowed like a river off of the surface and onto the floor. "And you did nothing. Nothing to stop him from _taking _what was mine."

Sucking in a pained breath, Gregory tried to speak. "I-."

Landis's muffled cry of protest tore her attention away from her task in time to see Damon plunge his hand into Gregory's back and rip out his heart. The bartender collapsed into a heap at his brother's feet, blood oozing from the gaping hole in his back.

Damon tossed the bloody organ to the floor, turning his back on Landis's physical and emotional agony as he made his way toward the bar. "Hand me some bottles," he ordered, holding out his bloodstained hands. Katherine stared at them for a moment, watching the thick, red substance drip from Damon's fingers to collect on the surface of the bar – evidence of his retribution. Beneath Landis and Gregory's blood, embedded into Damon's skin in a way that would never wash off, was Elena's.

It was almost…poetic.

Jumping to the floor, Katherine transferred the remaining rail bottles to the bar before starting on the back wall. Taking a cursory glance around the single room, she noted that the patrons were still sitting at their tables like moronic statues.

Damon's hands trembled as he tried to remove the caps from the bottles. Catching his eye, she saw nothing but cracks in the façade, his pain and agony beginning to push through.

They needed to hurry.

Brushing his hands aside, she opened all of the bottles, shoving four in his direction and grabbing his wrist. "Move fast."

Glaring at her, Damon snatched the bottles from the counter with an air of defiance. _Good, _she thought, grabbing four more of her own and blurring toward the booths lining the walls. If pissing him off kept him from falling apart, she had a vast arsenal of material to draw from.

Leaping onto the table, she dumped half the contents of a bottle of vodka over the scarred surface before tossing it against the wall. The bottle broke with a satisfying crash as she moved onto the next booth before the glass shards hit the ground.

"What are you doing?" one of the nameless patrons asked her, finally speaking up after watching the carnage in silence for an hour.

"Shut up," Katherine warned, crouching down in front of him. Tilting her head toward Landis and Gregory's dead body she asked. "Or do you want to end up like them?"

The vampire shook his head, snapping his mouth shut with an almost comical speed. She and Damon worked quickly, filling the underground bar with the sound of breaking glass and the overpowering scent of alcohol. Finally, when they'd exhausted the supply of liquor and every surface was dripping with the stuff, Damon retreated behind the bar one final time.

Standing guard at the entrance, Katherine studied Landis. Sagging against the wall, chin lolling against his chest, the vampire seemed to have given up and was silently awaiting his death.

"What did you shove into his mouth?" she asked as Damon emerged from behind the bar with two bottles. One was dark green and even with the stopper firmly in place, Katherine could smell the coppery goodness within. The other was covered in dust, but knowing Damon and judging by the amber color within, it was a very old, very expensive bottle of bourbon.

"Elena's bracelet," he said softly, handing her the bottles as he pulled a lighter out of his back pocket. Flipping the lid, he flicked his thumb and a small, steady flame glowed in the dim light. "Her vervaine bracelet."

_No wonder, he's not saying anything, _Katherine thought with a wince. Damon had burned out his throat. Curling her fingers around his arm, she tugged him toward the steps. "Let's go."

Studying Landis blankly for a few more seconds, he finally turned, allowing her to lead him up the stairs.

"Wait, what are you doing?" one of the vampires cried from below.

"We didn't do anything," another shrieked in panic.

Without looking back, Damon tossed the lighter over his shoulder and blurred to the top of the stairs. Katherine had enough time to see a wall of flame rush across the entrance, acting as a barrier that prevented any living creature's escape, before the heavy doors clanged shut. Within seconds, an orange light glowed through the seams and cracks in the weather beaten door and around the foundation, accompanied by the screams of the dying vampires within.

Offering her the bottle of blood, Damon kept his gaze focused on the doors. Accepting the bottle, Katherine watched him carefully, wishing she could see beyond his swiftly deteriorating walls. This was the moment when her job really began. Now that his revenge was complete there was nothing to stop him from doing something stupid and crazy that would prevent her from keeping her promise to Stefan.

"Why did you leave them in there?" Katherine asked as Damon brushed the dust off of the bottle of bourbon.

"Who?"

"Those vampires," she replied, taking a sip of the blood and nodding toward the closed doors. "The ones that had nothing to do with it?"

"Why do you care?" he scoffed.

"Indulge me," she retorted.

Opening the bottle of bourbon, Damon took a drink. "Collateral damage," he said without a hint of regret. "This time is different."

"Different?" she asked, savoring another sweet taste of the blood.

Damon offered her a grief-stricken smile before replying. "This time I'm not leaving any goddamn loose ends."

* * *

_Thank you all so very much for the replies! To the anons/guests that I can't reply directly to THANK YOU! It means the world to me that you guys take the time to jot down a few words and let me know what you think. I'm posting on the fly, but I hope to get responses to chapter 15 out later this evening! Can't wait to hear what you all think about this chapter!_


	17. Getting Out of Reverse

_AN: Sometimes I make my beta work harder than others, so thanks to her for getting through this chapter and adding the little things that took it to the next level._

_You've all been very patient for this, so without further ado...Enjoy!_

Chapter Seventeen - Getting Out of Reverse

The screams of the dying vampires trapped within the old building were a haunting soundtrack to the destruction as the fire worked quickly, feeding off of decades of alcohol that had soaked into the dried out wooden husk of The Crossroads. Katherine watched the bright orange flames spread to the abandoned first floor before punching through the roof minutes later and reaching toward the slowly lightening sky.

As the building burned, the heat intensified, forcing them to back up until gravel crunched beneath their feet and they were standing at the juncture of the crossroads that the bar had been named after.

Alternating between sips of blood and bourbon, Katherine watched Damon watch the flames. He hadn't said anything in the past hour, barely moving except to bring the bottle of eighty-year-old bourbon to his lips. He hadn't flinched as the vampires trapped inside the burning building had called out to him by name, begging for mercy. Their deaths meant nothing to her, _killing _meant nothing to her, but she'd expected something from Damon – even a simple flicker of disgust.

Instead…nothing.

Sighing, Katherine brought the bottle of blood to her lips and took a long, satisfying drink. It was good, pure – probably drained from some seventeen-year-old virgin who'd eaten three, well-balanced meals a day and never let a drop of alcohol pass her lips – and even with the bottle corked, she'd been able to smell it's delectable aroma. It had been over twenty-four hours since she'd fed and after the exertion and the adrenaline rush of the showdown in the bar, she'd needed it.

Damon hadn't touched it.

_And he isn't planning to, _she realized with mounting anxiety. She knew that it had been just as long—longer—since Damon had fed. He'd been too wired to feed when he'd found Elena missing and too devastated and focused…after. Katherine took another long pull from the bottle of blood as she looked closer at him…dreading what she knew was coming next.

Damon was lost in a hell of his own making.

The switch was gone. Shattered. Without the distraction of revenge, all that he had left was the pain – a pain so palpable that Katherine could feel it radiating off of him hotter and stronger than the heat of the fire. It was the pain of loss, of regret, of second guessing and reliving his actions in a masochistic attempt to figure out what he could have done differently, just so he'd have another excuse for self-loathing.

He was dying slowly, from the inside out. Katherine knew that with certainty, knew that he would do anything to make the pain go away—knew that the only two things keeping him alive right now were the slowly rising sun and a piece of spelled silver.

She watched as Damon absently began playing with the daylight ring on his finger, cursing Stefan even as she took a step forward and held out the bottle of blood to Damon in silent offering.

Katherine had a promise to keep.

"Damon…here."

Predictably, he ignored her.

"You need it," she insisted, taking another step forward and shoving the bottle against his chest.

"I'm fine," he replied, his voice rusty from lack of use.

"Bullshit, Salvatore," Katherine retorted, taking the bourbon and forcing his fingers around the dark green bottle. "It's been at least a full day since you've fed and we both know you're anything but fine," she said, taking a drink of the alcohol. Narrowing her eyes, she added. "Drink."

A pained smirk curved Damon's lips as he examined the bottle in the approaching dawn. "I don't think so."

_Fuck,_ Katherine grimaced, bracing a hand on her hip as she mentally cursed Elena Gilbert in every language she knew for being human and breakable – for dying and forcing her into this situation. "Let's go, Damon," Katherine said, attempting a different tactic.

"No."

"Dammit," she cursed, running a hand through her hair. It smelled like smoke and blood. "Don't do this. Elena wouldn't want-."

"You know what Elena wanted?" he asked, lifting his gaze from his contemplation of the green bottle to focus once more on the flames. "She wanted me to turn her."

Taken aback, Katherine's arms fell to her sides, the bottle of bourbon bouncing against her hip. "Turn her?" she parroted.

"Yeah," he nodded, swallowing as he turned the bottle of blood over and over in his hands. "She'd been begging me for a long time. We fought about it constantly."

"Fought?" Katherine raised a brow, intrigued by the conversation and grateful that he'd started talking.

"Because I kept putting it off," he explained. "Because I was afraid."

"Of what?"

"Of killing her," Damon murmured. "I was terrified of…snapping her neck and then…waiting. Waiting for her to open her eyes again. What if it didn't work, what if some fucked up twist of magic or her doppelganger blood kept it from happening? What if I _killed _the only woman who'd ever loved me?"

_Oh, fucking hell, _Katherine thought, her heart constricting painfully in her chest as she wished that, for once, she could tell him that she _had _loved him the way he'd loved her. "Damon-."

"But I did anyway," he said, that same, sad smirk curving his lips. He gave her the blood back, taking the bourbon from her and draining the bottle before chucking it all the way back into the heart of the fire. His tone was hard and razor sharp with self-loathing as he added. "I killed her by being a coward long before Landis threw her off of that cliff." Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out the keys to the SUV and pressed them into her hand. "Thanks for the help, Katherine."

"Damon, no."

"Go," he insisted, taking a step back as he began to play with the daylight ring again. Eyeing the horizon, he added. "You can tell Stefan that you tried."

Katherine stared at the keys in her hand, momentarily frozen in mind and body. Damon really wanted her to let him die. She knew that she had a reputation for being heartless – hell, she'd _cultivated _and nurtured it – but how the fuck was she supposed to let Damon just…take off his ring and fade away?

And yet…

…how could she force him to go on when all that stretched out in front of him was the desolation of an immortal life alone? The odds that Damon would find someone else to love him as Elena had were negligible. Katherine had spent half a dozen lifetimes searching for someone to look at her the way Damon had looked at Elena - like she was the sun and the moon and the entire fucking universe wrapped up in one petite little package - and she'd found exactly one. Elena had been Damon's salvation, just as surely as Stefan was hers and Katherine knew that losing _him _would ruin her.

Even Katherine Pierce had her limits as to the amount of cruelty she'd willingly inflict on someone she considered…_family. _

And Damon _was _her family. They'd never get along, never _like _each other, but he understood her in a way that nobody else did – understood the loneliness and the impulse to destroy and hurt just to fill up the emptiness inside. Promise or no promise, she couldn't force him to live in abject misery for all eternity.

Stefan was going to be so disappointed in her.

The fact that that mattered was just so…fucking insane.

_Fuck this, _she decided suddenly pissed off at the crooked path her life had become, and, curling her fingers around the keys, shoved them in her pocket. _I am so done with this shit._

Setting the bottle of blood on the gravel, Katherine reached behind her back, retrieving the two plain wooden stakes she'd armed herself with before the attack on the bar. The sun had crested the horizon like a glowing orange fireball and Damon was staring at it, utterly transfixed as he twirled the daylight ring around his finger. Heaving a sigh, she muttered. "Have it your way."

Frowning, Damon turned his head a fraction of an inch as he opened his mouth to speak, but she moved too quickly. Grabbing him by the throat, she kicked his legs out from beneath him, falling with him to the gravel road and trapping his hips between her legs.

Playtime was officially over.

"Katherine, what the fuck?" he demanded, the growl turning into a howl of pain as she thrust one stake into the palm of his left hand, pinning it to the ground. "Goddamit!"

"I get it, Damon," she said, leaning over him as she drove the second stake through the palm of his right hand, effectively crucifying him to the road. "Life without Elena isn't worth living. Believe me, I get it. But-."

"But you made a promise to Stefan," Damon sneered, tugging on his hands despite the excruciating pain that had to be radiating up his arms. "God-fucking-forbid you ever disappoint _him._"

"This isn't about Stefan," she retorted. "This is about me, removing myself from the equation. I am so done dealing with this sibling bullshit."

"Bitch," he fired back, sweat breaking out on his brow as he eyed his staked hands. The stakes had been soaked in vervaine and although they'd long since dried, the poison was still able to work through Damon's system. It wasn't enough to kill him, but with the lack of fresh blood in his veins, it was more than enough to weaken him to the point where he wouldn't be able to take his ring off until she got back from the SUV with her cell phone.

Patting his cheek, she smirked. "Don't go anywhere."

"Fuck you."

Leaping to her feet, Katherine blurred down the road, her long legs eating up the quarter mile in seconds as she hurried to the hidden SUV. Throwing open the passenger door, she yanked open the glove compartment, praying that her battery still had some juice left and that when she called Stefan he'd be able to convince Damon to live. If Stefan couldn't, she didn't know what the fuck she was going to do.

_You've gone soft, Pierce, _she thought, pressing a button and bringing the screen to life. Immediately she frowned at the alerts that flashed across the screen.

Ten text messages and twice as many missed calls, all from Stefan.

_What the hell? _she wondered, flicking her thumb across the touchscreen to unlock the device. Checking the texts first, she nearly dropped her phone in shock at what she read. Every message was essentially the same, ordering her to call him immediately. The last one, however, had a little more detail. Two words, to be specific. Two little words that changed everything.

Katherine's stomach flipped, her eyes widening in shock as her phone plummeted to the ground, released by her suddenly numb fingers.

_Holy shit. _

* * *

Sitting dejectedly on the couch in the living room, Elena braced her elbows on her knees and covered her face in her hands. The Salvatore house was blessedly, mercifully silent. Bonnie, Alaric and Jeremy had all left, heading to the witch's house under the pretense of continuing to work on the location spell. Elena hadn't said goodbye.

She'd been too humiliated that they'd had to leave because of her.

Caroline and Tyler were somewhere – for whatever reason the werewolf's rapid pulse hadn't called to her in the same way as her human family – catching a few hours of sleep after the last stressful forty-eight hours.

Elena wasn't sure where Stefan had gone.

Without a human in the house, she'd been able to get a handle on her bloodlust, but that had only made more room for her humiliation over the fact that she hadn't even been able to stay in the same house with her own family without wanting to drain them dry.

"Elena," Stefan's calm, soothing voice interrupting the turmoil of her thoughts. Jerking upright, the sharp scent of alcohol hit her before she turned and saw the offered crystal tumbler in his hands.

"What's this?" she asked, taking the tumbler.

"Bourbon," he replied, settling into a chair across from her. "It's Damon's favorite. I figured you might have developed a taste for it over the past few years."

Eyeing the alcohol warily, she asked. "Are you sure? I mean, I haven't had anything to eat in…," she swallowed. She couldn't remember the last time she'd eaten. "I mean, now's not the best time for me to get wasted and lose control."

"Your alcohol tolerance isn't something you have to worry about anymore, Elena," Stefan said, his mouth quirking upwards in a half-hearted smile.

"Oh," she said, feeling the blood rush to her cheeks. _Vampire now, _she reminded herself, turning the glass around in her hands. "Right."

Noticing her hesitancy, Stefan nodded. "Go ahead. It'll help take the edge off."

"The edge?" she repeated, assuming he was talking about the craving for blood that was still making her throat burn. "Seriously?"

"Why do you think Damon drinks so much?" he asked.

_He doesn't, _she thought. _Not anymore. _He still drank enough to give any human liver failure, but it had been a long time since Elena had seen Damon drink to excess. Before she could quibble about that detail, however, a new horror struck her. "You mean this never goes away?" she asked, her eyes widening as she stared at him, panicked over the idea that she'd have to deal with the crippling bloodlust on a permanent basis. "I'm going to feel like this forever?"

"No," Stefan promised. "No, it gets better, but it's going to take a while. Drinking helps."

Taking a breath, Elena licked her lips and took a tiny, hesitant sip of the bourbon. The familiar flavors exploded in her mouth, making her eyes water at the intensity. Swallowing, she felt it slide down her throat, reminding her of the blood she'd consumed less than an hour earlier. The alcohol didn't numb the craving, but Stefan was right, it did distract her from it.

"Elena."

Lifting her gaze from her contemplation of the bourbon, she caught his eye and raised a brow.

"I'm sorry that this happened to you," he said, the sadness she'd noticed earlier rising to the surface. "I know this isn't what you wanted."

Elena blinked, looking down at the Persian rug. "Actually, it was," she admitted softly, without thinking. Stefan made a sound of surprise, prompting her to add quickly. "Not like this. Definitely not like this, but…turning…it _was _the plan. Our plan."

"You wanted to be a vampire?" Stefan asked, leaning back in the chair and gazing at her in disbelief.

"I wanted to be able to protect myself and my friends, my family," she stated, wanting to drop her gaze back to the floor, but maintaining eye contact instead. _How many times am I going to have to explain this? _she wondered, tightening her grip on the tumbler of bourbon as she grew more defiant. "And I wanted to be with Damon. I love him."

"I know you do," Stefan nodded calmly, making Elena's stomach flip as she remembered the last time they'd discussed the idea of her becoming a vampire. She hadn't been that girl – that scared, sad little girl mourning her parents and mourning the life she thought she'd live to lead – in such a long time that she hadn't thought about that day in years.

_Do vampires blush? _she wondered, feeling her cheeks flood with heat as she realized the implications of what she'd just admitted. "I'm sorry," she said, her shoulders sagging as she lowered her gaze. "Should I even be telling you this?"

Stefan narrowed his eyes. "Telling me what?"

"That I was willing to turn for Damon, but not for you," she said, knowing unequivocally that her face was bright red. _God, could this be more awkward?_

"Ah," he said quietly, brushing a speck of dust off of the coffee table. "That."

"Yeah, _that._"

"Elena, considering how everything turned out, you made the right choice," he admitted with a small chuckle before raising his brow and amending. "Although considering your track record, that's not saying much."

"Hey!" she protested, a grin tugging at her lips as his light-hearted response eased some of the tightness in her chest. Sitting up straighter, she added airily. "All the more reason for me to turn, right? Now my stupid plans can't get me killed."

Laughing outright, Stefan tipped his head in acknowledgement as they fell into a companionable silence. Elena nursed her bourbon, realizing with surprise that she hadn't thought about blood for a whole five minutes.

It wasn't much, but it was a start.

"I'm glad," Stefan said quietly, breaking the silence as her eyes darted back to his. "I'm glad that you completed the transition. I'm glad that you're willing to do this for him," he continued, his gaze intense with an expression of genuine gratitude. "Damon needs…," he hesitated. "Damon deserves to have someone love him like that."

* * *

_Stefan woke with a start, yanked from sleep by the shrill ringing of his cell phone. Blinking at the ceiling, he struggled for a split-second to acclimate himself to his surroundings. He and Katherine had been traveling for a year, going from one hotel room to the next, and it always took him a moment to remember which city they were currently exploring. _

Hong Kong, _he thought, dragging a hand over his face and beginning the always tricky task of extricating himself from Katherine's embrace. They'd been in Hong Kong for the past two weeks. _

_Tucked against his side, her long dark curls splayed across his chest, Katherine made a sound of protest as he slipped away from her. Pressing a kiss to her fingertips, he murmured. "Be right back." _

"_Tell Damon he can go to hell," she grumbled, letting him go with relative ease and burying her face in the pillow. Chuckling, Stefan searched through their discarded clothes for his pants and retrieved his cell phone just before it clicked over to voicemail. Katherine had been right – Damon's name flashed across the screen._

"_Hello?"_

"_Why do you always answer like you don't know it's me?" Damon demanded by way of greeting. "You have caller ID." _

"_Always nice to hear from you, Damon," Stefan said, yawning as he tugged on his jeans and made his way to the spacious balcony off of their penthouse suite bedroom. _

"_Were you asleep?" he asked, making it sound like an accusation rather than a question. "Where the hell are you?"_

"_Hong Kong," Stefan replied, closing the sliding glass door and settling into a lounge chair. _

"_Hong Kong," Damon repeated incredulously. "As in-."_

"_As in the Special Administrative Region of the People's Republic of China," Stefan said, leaning forward in the chair and glancing at the starry sky. "Where it's currently four o'clock. A.M. Good morning, by the way."_

"_Why the fuck did Katherine drag you to Hong Kong?" he asked. _

"_This was actually my idea," Stefan chuckled. "She says hello, by the way." _

"_I doubt that, but nice try," Damon said before launching into a series of questions about how Hong Kong had changed since he'd been there last – considering he hadn't been there since the 1960s, Stefan had plenty of conversation fodder. _

"_So…," Damon said after the discussion on the city had come to a natural end. "How long do you think you'll stay?" _

"_I don't know. I haven't decided where I want to go next," Stefan admitted, rubbing his thumb against his daylight ring as he watched the horizon growing lighter in the distance. "How's Mystic Falls?"_

"_Still here," Damon snorted derisively. Stefan grinned, knowing that his brother considered it a minor miracle that their hometown hadn't been sucked into the abyss of hell. There was a long pause on the line before Damon cleared his throat and asked. "Any chance you'll be back before the fall?"_

_Stefan frowned. That was the second time Damon had not-so-subtly inquired about his future travel plans which made it two more times than usual. Stefan knew his brother. _

_Something was on his mind. _

"_Anything's possible," he admitted, although he had no plans to return to his hometown in the next decade. In the year since he'd found the delicate balance between his humanity and his vampirism, he'd grown more confident in his ability to maintain it, but he wasn't sure if he was ready to return to a place with so many…memories. "Why do you ask?"_

"_No reason," Damon replied far too quickly. _

"_I don't believe you."_

_Damon scoffed. "That's your problem."_

"_Do you need my help for something?" _

"_No."_

"_Do you_ want _me to come home?" Stefan asked. _

"_Stefan, I could care less about your travel plans," Damon insisted. _

"_And I still don't believe you," Stefan replied, speaking over his brother's sputtered protestations as he continued. "So, why don't you just get it over with? Tell me whatever it is you need to tell me so that we can move on and forget about it."_

"_I'm leaving Mystic Falls," Damon announced defiantly. "With Elena. She's going to college at Emory this fall." _

_Stunned, Stefan said nothing as he sat on the balcony in the growing dawn. The fact that Elena had gotten into college didn't shock him – her habit of dating vampires aside, the girl was smart as hell. What surprised him was hearing her name. He and Damon hadn't talked about Elena since that morning in the kitchen nearly a year ago when he'd announced his plan to go after Katherine. They hadn't actively decided that the subject of Elena was off-limits during their semi-regular conversations in the last few months, but there'd been a kind of unspoken agreement. Damon had only mentioned her in the vaguest of terms and Stefan hadn't pressed for more._

"_That's why I called you," Damon continued, his tone slightly softer. _

"_Emory," Stefan repeated, reeling from the shock of talking about Elena in such specific terms. Momentarily speechless, he searched his feelings for any sign of discomfort or a hint of jealousy. _

_All he found was regret for the way he'd treated her in the end. Regardless of his feelings for Katherine, Elena had deserved more than to be tossed aside like what they'd shared - what she'd felt - had meant nothing._

"_Yeah," Damon replied, equally guarded. "She's…really excited about it."_

"_I remember her mentioning it a couple of times," Stefan agreed, thinking back a lifetime ago when he'd been with Elena. "She never thought she'd get in." _

_Damon paused before admitting. "I blackmailed her into applying." _

_Stefan snorted. "Why am I not surprised?"_

"_She was pissed," Damon continued, humor evident in his tone. "At least until she got the acceptance letter. Then she was furious."_

"_Why because she figured you bribed someone to get her in?" _

"_Yes!" he exclaimed indignantly. "Why does everybody assume that?" _

"_Did you?" Stefan asked, taking advantage of the rare opportunity to get a rise out of Damon as he struggled to navigate in unfamiliar territory. Unresolved issues or no unresolved issues, talking to his brother about his ex was…_weird_._

"_No," Damon retorted, full of righteous indignation. "Elena got in on her own. She didn't need my help." _

"_Of course she didn't," Stefan replied easily. "But I know you've wanted to get her out of Mystic Falls since you met her. It was a logical conclusion."_

"_Logical my ass," his brother grumbled before adding a moment later. "I might have…made a not quite so anonymous donation to the library fund."_

_Stefan snickered. "What kind of donation?" _

"_A sizeable one," Damon admitted. "Like, new wing size. But that was after she got in and only so they'd put her at the top of the scholarship lists." _

"_Let me guess," Stefan said. "She won't let you help her pay for it." _

"_No!" Damon said, his frustration carrying through the phone and around the world. "I don't know what the hell she expects me to do with my money. There's only so much alcohol one man can buy."_

_Stefan laughed before falling into an easy silence. After a moment, he said quietly. "Thanks for telling me."_

"_Yeah, well," Damon sighed, trying to keep his tone light. "I thought you should hear it from me. Although I'm sure Caroline will fill you in as soon as Elena tells her."_

"_I don't know what you're talking about," Stefan replied evasively, refusing to admit that his brother was right. Over the past year, Caroline had made a habit of filling him in on all of the details of Mystic Falls life that Damon had avoided mentioning. _

"_Whatever," he muttered as some background noise carried over the line. Stefan heard Elena's voice – so similar to Katherine's and yet completely different – call his brother's name. He wasn't surprised when Damon brought a swift end to their conversation. "I better let you go before Katherine finds a witch to put a curse on me." _

"_Sure," Stefan replied. "I'll talk to you later." _

_Hanging up after Damon said goodbye, Stefan stared at his phone in quiet contemplation before reentering the suite and closing the door silently behind him. Katherine was still asleep, sprawled out on the mattress in a tangle of bed sheets and naked limbs. Tossing his phone onto one of the armchairs, he climbed back into bed, immediately pulling Katherine into his arms. _

"_Did you give Damon my message?" she asked sleepily, nuzzling her face against his bare chest. _

"_I did," Stefan confirmed, kissing her temple before burying his nose in the soft, dark curls of her hair. "He says he misses you, too." _

_Muttering a curse, Katherine snuggled closer, hitching one of her legs over his before succumbing to sleep once again. Stefan listened to her slow, steady heartbeat as he replayed his conversation with Damon. _

_Surprisingly, he felt lighter, as if a huge weight had been lifted off of his chest. Elena had become the elephant in the room whenever he talked to Damon – always there and growing bigger with every conversation that passed without acknowledging it. The relief that he felt to have finally addressed the issue was immeasurable._

_And he was happy for them, too – happy that both Damon and Elena were getting out of Mystic Falls and making a fresh start. Having spent a year away, Stefan knew that his decision to leave his hometown had been the right one. He'd finally been able to let go of his past baggage – the good and the bad – and just _be_. Damon and Elena deserved that same chance and in Atlanta, Stefan hoped they'd get it._

* * *

Taking a sip of her bourbon, Elena smiled. "He does deserve it," she agreed. "But I didn't want to turn _for _him, Stefan. I wanted to turn _because_ of him. I want to be with him forever. And I need him just as much as he needs me."

Her hands were shaking slightly as she brought the tumbler to her lips and took a much greedier sip of the alcohol. Elena had been a full-fledged vampire for a little over an hour and while Stefan was astounded by the level of control she was exhibiting, he could see that her control was precarious.

"Elena-."

"Stefan, what are we going to do?" she asked, turning to him with wide, glassy eyes as her knuckles turned white from gripping the tumbler so hard. "I can't…I can't just sit here and-and _wait_. I need to go find him."

"Elena, we don't know where he is," he said, hating the words for sounding like an excuse – for _feeling _like an excuse. He couldn't quiet the nagging voice in his head that insisted that if Damon were in his shoes, he'd find a way. His brother _always _found a way. "Did Landis say anything? Did he give you any idea where he planned on going after...," he paused, briefly closing his eyes before he ground out the words. "After he was finished with you and Damon?"

Elena's entire body tensed as she shook her head. "No."

"Are you sure?" he pressed. "Think. Maybe you'll remember-."

"I remember, Stefan," she interrupted, pressing her pale, bloodless lips into a thin line. "I remember everything. Everything Landis compelled me to do, to _think_," she paused, bringing the tumbler to her lips and taking another large gulp. Standing abruptly, she made her way to the bar and poured herself another glass. "He didn't say anything about what came afterwards. He just wanted to hurt Damon. And he knew…he knew that the best way to do that was to hurt me."

Stefan nodded as she drank the contents of her glass in two swallows. He couldn't imagine the memories that she'd recovered since she'd completed the transition, but he understood the deluge. After he'd turned, he'd remembered something new that Katherine had compelled him to forget every day for a month.

"Why did he want to turn you?" he asked suddenly. "If he wanted to hurt Damon, why did he give you his blood?"

"I…"Elena frowned, tilting her head as a tiny line appeared between her brows. "I don't think he did. Want to turn me, I mean. I don't think he thought about that. Damon surprised him. He planned on letting you find me, but not so soon."

"They why-?"

"To play," she explained, her voice dull as she carefully poured another glass of bourbon. "He didn't want me to die before he'd had all of his fun."

Stefan's heart constricted painfully. "Elena-."

"I'm fine," she insisted before meeting his eye. After a moment, she shrugged, offering him a small smile. "I'll _be_ fine. As soon as we find Damon, I'll be okay."

Taking her glass of bourbon, Elena returned to the couch, sinking to the cushions and bracing her elbows on her knees. Stefan watched her closely, noting the slight tremble to her shoulders and the white-knuckled grip she had on the tumbler. _Dammit, Damon, _he thought, shaking his head. _Where the fuck are you? _

A shrill ringing interrupted his thoughts, drawing his attention to the coffee table where he'd left his cell phone. The small device was lit up like a Christmas tree and vibrating against the polished wooden surface. Exchanging a glance with a wide-eyed Elena, he reached for the phone.

Katherine's name stared back at him from the small screen.

"It's them," he said, relief coursing through him as Elena leapt to her feet and made her way to his side. Punching a button, he brought the phone to his ear, skipping a greeting and jumping right to the point. "Katherine, where the hell-."

"Let me talk to her, Stefan," she interrupted crisply. "Put my little doppelganger on the phone."

* * *

_Standing beneath the shelter of one of the trees in the Gilbert's front yard, Damon stared at Elena's window as he turned her necklace over in his hands._ Her vervaine necklace, _he thought with mild annoyance, feeling the faint burn from the traces of the plant clinging to the outside of the shiny silver pendant. The fragile bit of jewelry was such a stupid,_ stupid _way of protecting her. It had made sense months ago, when neither Elena nor any other threat that she might face had been aware of the necklace's dual purpose, but now that she knew about vampires, knew about her doppelganger blood, it was destructively naïve to think it would protect her from anything. _

_One quick, sharp tug and the clasp would break, leaving Elena vulnerable. _

Stupid_, he thought again. _Leave it to my fucking brother_. _

_Leaning against the trunk of the tree, Damon swept his thumb across the abstract design on the surface of the pendant. Elena was without any protection at all right now, and if she were smart, she'd consumed as much vervaine as possible upon arriving back home. Tea, coffee, laced bourbon, the delivery method didn't matter so much as the quantity and speed with which she'd gotten the substance back into her system. _

_Considering that 'smart' wasn't anywhere near the top of the list of qualities that attracted him to Elena, Damon assumed that she hadn't done shit. _

_Automatically, the part of him that was currently crushing on the human girl like a school boy, leapt to her defense. Elena was smart – the glimpses he'd had of her wicked sense of humor, not to mention the way she'd refused to ever take any of his bullshit had proven that. Damon couldn't remember the last person who'd seen through him as quickly as Elena had, nor could he remember another person in his entire existence who'd given him as many chances as she had. She was smart, brave, loyal to a fault and beautiful. _

_God, she was beautiful. _

_Sure, she looked exactly like Katherine – and a part of him was dying to know if she resembled Katherine in_ every _way – but Elena's beauty went so far beyond the physical that it made his barely beating heart literally ache with it. She was so goddamn _good_, so forgiving and compassionate, that sometimes he wondered if she were even real. Katherine had always been supremely confident in her beauty, using it as a tool to seduce poor saps like him into thinking that they were in love with her. _

_Elena didn't seem to have a clue as to the power she could wield simply by raising one of her perfectly arched brows. She could have the entire football team collectively wrapped around her little finger._

_Of course, she wasn't perfect. That innate sense of goodness she possessed lent itself to an incredibly wearisome self-righteous streak, which was why she and Stefan were such a perfect pair. When they tired of out-emoing each other, they could move on to self-righteously judging those around them. _

They're perfect for each other_, he thought, smiling wanly and without a hint of malice. Stefan seemed happy and while it was a blow to Damon's pride, the fact that his brother wasn't hiding out in his room with the curtains drawn was a relief. Stefan tried so hard to be good, to atone for his past, and even though Damon knew it was pointless and a wasted effort, the good intentions had made him realize the truth. _

_Stefan deserved Elena. _

And I don't_, he admitted with a surge of bitterness and a flare of pain in the constantly aching center of his being. Damon would never be Stefan. He'd never lament his past, never seek atonement. He'd never care about humanity as a whole the way Stefan did or willingly put his neck on the line to save anybody but the few people – two, really – that he cared about. He'd never stop drinking human blood, never stop hunting. He could curb the urge to kill and destroy, but he honestly wasn't sure if he wanted to. _

_Damon would never be the man Elena needed him to be. _

_The man that she deserved._

_Which was why it was time to get the fuck out of Mystic Falls. _

_Slipping the necklace into his pocket, Damon crossed the yard silently to stand directly beneath Elena's window. After the whole incident with Jeremy, he would have thought that she might start locking the damn thing – not that that would have stopped him – but predictably, she hadn't. She'd left the window open to allow the pleasantly cool air into her bedroom along with any other creature of the night that happened by. _

_Her innocence, even in the face of so much evil was just another reason why she continuously tied him up in knots. Her faith in the inherent goodness in everyone, in _him, _was the only thing that kept him from giving into the dark temptation._

_From compelling her to want him back._

_Whatever lay between him and Elena…he wanted it to be real._

_And it was driving him insane._

_Jesus. He needed to get the fuck_ out of here.

_Closing his eyes, he listened intently for any sounds of movement from within the room. Hearing none, he bent his knees and jumped, catching the sill and slipping silently inside with ease._

_She was in the bathroom. He could hear her moving around, could see the occasional flash of her long, dark hair as she got ready for bed. The urge to trail his fingers through the silky locks was nearly overwhelming. _

It's definitely time to leave_, he thought, taking the necklace from his pocket and settling onto the window seat. He was through indulging his masochistic streak. He'd pined for Katherine for one-hundred and fifty years and he knew the sharp edge of her betrayal would sting for another century and a half. Without even trying, Elena had wormed her way into his heart, making him care about her quickly and with an alarming intensity that had succeeded in freaking him the fuck out. _

_If the girl could do that without even trying, how hard could she make him fall if she put some effort into it? _

_He was done. Done with loving women who didn't love him and done with playing nice. Being bad suited him, made it easier to bury the memories and the pain and all of the things that absolutely sucked about being Damon Salvatore. The second Elena stepped into her bedroom, he'd return her necklace and say goodbye. _

Maybe, I'll even skip the goodbye_, he thought, glancing around the bedroom and taking in all of the things that made it hers – the pictures around her mirror and on the wall, the teddy bear resting comfortably against the pillows on her bed. Skipping the goodbye would be best - keep things business-like and unsentimental. He could leave the necklace on her pillow and sneak out the way he'd come in and she'd be none would be the wiser. _

_Deciding on his plan, Damon prepared to do just that as Elena came around the corner and entered her room. Studying a light bruise that he could tell would be deep purple by morning, she didn't notice him at first and it was all he could do not to stare dumbly at her slight form as his great plan imploded all around him._

_Pain and exhaustion radiated off of her in waves, awakening protective instincts he hadn't known he possessed until her. He wanted to go to her, to take her into his arms and promise that he'd never let anything bad happen to her ever again. He wanted to kiss her until she moaned his name and followed him to her bed where he'd give her so much pleasure that she'd forget her own. He wanted to keep her safe – he needed to keep her safe. _

Leave_._

I can't…

_Staring at her stupidly, he barely registered his abrupt change in plans as all of his good intentions fell at her stocking feet. Women in the sexiest, most scandalous lingerie – or nothing at all – had thrown themselves at him over the decades and yet the sight of an oblivious Elena Gilbert in her short shorts and dark blue tank top left him completely undone. The thought of leaving her made his lungs seize and his chest ache with raw panic. Stefan and his goddamn necklace couldn't protect her – they'd probably get her killed. _

Leave_._

He couldn't.

He wouldn't.

_Finally lifting her head, Elena gasped as she noticed him, fear flashing across her features. Swallowing, he forced his lips into a smile that he hoped was reassuring. _

"_Cute pj's," he said, wishing he had the balls to tell her what he was really thinking – that she wasn't alone, that he'd protect her no matter what, even if she hated him for it. Not just because she deserved it or because he was the biggest fucking masochist to ever exist, but because he wanted to, because he needed to. _

_Because he was completely and irrevocably in love with her. _

* * *

Gritting his teeth against the searing pain in his hands, Damon struggled to dislodge the stakes from the hard-packed gravel. He should have known that this would happen, that Katherine would never in a million lifetimes break a promise to Stefan in order to spare him a second of pain. Their camaraderie and teamwork of the past twenty-four hours had been nothing more than her keeping her word.

To Stefan.

_It's always fucking Stefan, _Damon thought, chuckling bitterly as he stared up at the lightening sky. Even now, his brother wouldn't let him go.

Let him die.

And he wanted to. God, he was nearly desperate to. He was tired, exhausted all the way down to his bones. He'd already lived well past his expiration date and regardless of how melodramatic or Shakespearean it sounded, he just didn't want to do it anymore.

Not without Elena.

_I should have left that night. _The night he'd returned Elena's necklace had been the first time he'd understood that his feelings for her were more than simple like or lust. Even though he'd admitted his love to her that night, there had still been time. She hadn't gotten into his blood and wrapped herself around his heart. That night she had still been Stefan's and completely out of reach. If he'd left like he'd planned she'd still be alive and he wouldn't be wishing for the peace of death with the same desperate fervor he'd once wished for her love.

A faint scuffling carried to him from nearly a quarter of a mile away. Recognizing Katherine's footfalls, he closed his eyes and wondered what his odds were that Stefan would understand and let him go.

_Not fucking good, _he decided darkly. _Fucking Stefan always got what he wanted._

"I am running as fast as I can," Katherine insisted, her voice carrying through the clear morning air as she sauntered toward him at a slow, sedate pace. Craning his neck, he caught a glimpse of her – a black shadow in the darkness with a wicked smirk curving her lips. Damon's heart sank. Whatever spark of compassion had motivated her to help him this night had obviously disappeared. "My goodness, you've become so much more _demanding _than I remember."

"Katherine, this is fucking stupid," Damon said as she came to a stop next to his head. "I'll talk to Stefan, just unstake me."

"Damon?"

Hearing his name, he froze and forgot all about the stakes pinning him to the ground like some kind of bizarre sacrificial offering. The voice on the other end of the line hadn't belonged to Stefan. It had sounded like…

Jesus. No.

_Fuck no! _Shaking his head defiantly he wrenched his mind away from the thought before it fully formed. He would _not _go there. He would not indulge in vain hope and crazy fantasies. She was dead and no amount of wishing was going to change that.

"Katherine, is that him?" the voice demanded, piercing his heart with each word. _I'm hallucinating now, _he decided. That was the only explanation. The heartbreak of losing her and massacring an entire bar full of vampires had pushed him over the edge. "Put him on the line," the voice ordered. "Now, Katherine. Put Damon on the phone."

"I'm not sure he can talk right now," Katherine said, stepping over him and planting a booted foot on either side of his ribcage. Lowering herself gracefully, she shifted to kneel above him, settling herself on his chest. "He's a little…preoccupied."

"What did you do to him?" the voice cried shrilly. In the background, Damon could hear Stefan urging whomever was speaking to calm down, that Katherine had promised to keep him alive and that meant he had to be fine. "Katherine, please," there were tears now, familiar tears that filled him with a painful longing and intense disbelief as they broke his heart over and over again. "Please, let me talk to him."

"Give me a second," Katherine said, relenting as some of the playfulness left her features. Taking the phone away from her ear, she reached for Damon's staked right hand. With a quick tug, she removed the stake, causing him to roar with the unexpected pain. She waited patiently as the agony swept through him and the healing began.

"I know you can hear her," she said, watching him carefully.

"What the hell are you talking about?" he demanded through gritted teeth, clenching and unclenching his hand as the hole in the center of it disappeared. "What the fuck is going on? Who the fuck is that? Why-?"

"She's alive, Damon," Katherine explained gently, effectively bringing his entire world to a screeching halt as she sat serenely on his chest in the middle of nowhere, the scent of charred wood and death swirling around them.

"What?"

"She's alive," the vampire repeated before shrugging. "Well, she's a vampire, now, so technically, she's dead, but…semantics."

His heart stopped it's slow, steady beating and his lungs constricted. "Don't," he ordered, his voice a ruined whisper as fear and hope warred across his features. "Do not play games with me, Katherine. Not about this."

"I'm not," she insisted, holding out the phone to him as she gazed at him, real honesty in her usually mischievous dark brown eyes. His heart lurched painfully as the hope he thought he'd buried forced its way to the surface. "This is real, Damon."

He couldn't make his fingers work to take the phone from her so she left it on his chest and pulled the other stake free before rising to her feet. He didn't even feel the pain as he finally picked the phone up off of his chest with shaking fingers. Lying on his back on the gravel road, he closed his eyes and licked his lips.

_Please let this be real. _

_Please._

"Elena?" he asked in a whisper, not trusting his voice with actual sound. For a moment there was silence on the other end of the line.

Then…a sigh, a soft, breathy catch that he would have recognized anywhere and he was glad he was already on the ground because there was no way he would have been spared the humiliation of collapsing to the gravel otherwise.

"Damon," she breathed, her voice thick with emotion. "Oh, god, Damon…are you-are you okay?"

He lay there, speechless for several seconds, as her voice washed over him, instantly soothing the raw edges of his wounded soul. _Was he okay? _Jesus fucking Christ, she was alive. She was _alive. _

"Yeah, Elena," he murmured, a laugh of sheer, giddy relief bubbling up from deep within him. "Yeah, I'm okay."

* * *

_AN: I completely failed at my promise to get to the replies, so now I owe you for two chapters. Don't worry. I'll make good. Thank you so much for taking the time to review and reply. I say this every chapter, but I mean it - I'm blown away by the continued and increasing support you're giving me. Thank you and I look forward to your thoughts on this chapter. _


	18. Let No Man Put Asunder

_AN: As always, thanks to my beta and thanks to you, beautiful readers who are way too good to me. I think this is the chapter you've all been waiting for, so I'll shut up now and let you get right to it. Enjoy!_

Chapter Eighteen – Let No Man Put Asunder

Squinting into the sun, Damon focused on the road as he sped down the nearly empty highway, doing his best not to stomp a hole in the floor in his haste. Katherine had offered to drive, but he'd turned her down. He'd needed to be behind the wheel, needed to steer, hit the brake and accelerate – needed to be in control of the trip back to Mystic Falls.

Back to Elena.

If he'd been able to, Damon would have stayed on the line with Elena the entire drive back to Virginia, but the battery in Katherine's phone had died shortly after she'd handed it to him. It had been long enough, however, to hear Elena's voice, long enough to convince his disbelieving heart that she was alive and to promise her that he'd be home soon. Tearfully, she'd promised _him_ that she was okay, that Stefan and Caroline had been helping her, but that he had to hurry because what she really needed was to see him. The call had ended just as she'd told him that she loved him and Damon had returned the sentiment immediately, but the phone had already shut itself off. For a long moment, he'd stayed there, lying on the gravel, the phone held useless and silent against his ear, and stared silently up at the lightening sky as his reality shifted and refocused in a new way.

He hadn't lost her.

She was _alive. _

Everything else fell away and with the euphoria of that knowledge driving him, he'd lurched to his feet, blurred back to the SUV, snatched the keys from Katherine, hopped behind the wheel and they'd been on their way in under a minute. Navigating the treacherous gravel roads with reckless speed, Damon had thought of nothing but Elena. He'd fantasized about the way her eyes would lock with his the moment they saw each other again, the way she'd smile, her lips curving in that familiar way that made his barely beating heart skip a beat. He'd been unable to breathe in anticipation of holding her again, of feeling her soft, warm body press against him, of breathing in her scent and tasting her kiss on his lips.

Damon's fantasies had changed as he and Katherine had crossed the border into Virginia. Instead of the big, brown doe eyes that had the ability to make him do _anything _when they looked at him just right, he'd imagined a dull, unblinking gaze and broken, lifeless limbs. He'd pictured a white dress stained red and pale bloodless lips.

The way she'd reached for him as she fell.

His happiness had been leveled by the reality of what had happened to Elena – what had happened to _them_.

He'd failed.

And she'd _died._

"_Damon, you don't have to do this. There's something you don't know. Something I didn't realize. Elena might not-."_

_Fucking Landis, _he thought darkly, barely noticing that he was able to acknowledge the vampire's name without physical pain ripping through his entire body. Now he understood the younger – the _dead_ – vampire's last desperate words. Landis must have remembered giving Elena his blood and had been hoping to use it as a bargaining chip for his life.

Not that it would have worked. Even if Damon had believed him, Landis's fate had been sealed the second he'd taken Elena.

Seething silently, Damon gripped the steering wheel tighter. He hated that that bastard's blood had turned her, that the memory of Landis and his sick games would always be there to torture them both. It cast a pall on their lives, on the version of normalcy that Damon knew Elena would want them to return to, and there wasn't a goddamn thing he could do about it.

The enormity of his failure grew with each passing mile, consuming him and weighing him down with guilt. How was he going to face Elena? He knew that she'd forgive him – hell, she probably already had – and would assure him that it wasn't his fault, that there was nothing to forgive, but he knew the truth. He'd had two jobs and he'd failed at both of them.

* * *

_Rolling up the sleeves of his black button-down, Damon left his bedroom and headed for the staircase. Taking each step at a plodding human speed, he marveled at how completely his life had veered off course in the past forty-eight hours. _

_Klaus was dead and there was no looming supernatural threat hanging over his head. Stefan had lived up to his word, leaving town the previous day to begin his search for Katherine, and Elena…_

_Elena had only just gone home after having spent the past two days with him. In his bed. _

Well, mostly in bed_, __he allowed, pausing in the middle of the foyer to let that truth wash over him. They had come up for air long enough to eat a couple of times and truthfully, they'd slept more than anything else. Damon couldn't remember the last time he'd slept so much. After months of being on guard, Klaus's death had apparently flipped some sort of switch and he'd finally been able to relax. _

_Of course, having Elena curled up next to him had probably helped. Damon hadn't realized how much time he'd spent worrying about her when she wasn't in his presence until he hadn't had to any longer._

I'm supposed to be dead, _he thought, recalling his aborted role in the sacrifice as he made his way into the living room. At the very least, he was supposed to have left town. All of his best laid plans had been derailed by Elena Gilbert. As usual. _

_Damon hadn't been ready for her to leave that morning, but she'd insisted that she couldn't spend the rest of the summer in bed with him and he'd grudgingly accepted that only after she'd promised to return later that evening. The second she'd stepped out of his sight, the old, gnawing anxiety had flared up again, and it had taken all of his strength not to follow her home to keep an eye on her from the tree outside of her bedroom window. Pouring himself a drink, he reminded himself that stalking – no matter how well-intentioned – was not a quality that Elena would find endearing. _

_Even if it did make him feel better._

_With the coming dawn, he'd realized that he was completely at a loss for what to do next. For almost one hundred and fifty years, he'd had goals…some type of plan…. Getting Katherine out of the tomb, protecting Elena_ from_Katherine, then from Elijah and Klaus, then saving Stefan – not to mention all of the smaller goals like 'not dying from a werewolf bite' – had been the driving force in his life. Despite his success, despite killing the bad guy and getting the girl, despite everything coming up fucking roses for once, Damon didn't know what the hell to do with himself. _

_The idea of actually having nothing else to do but just_ be – _either with Elena or by himself when she wasn't around – terrified the shit out of him._

_He'd nearly called Liz Forbes an hour ago and asked if anybody had reported any strange animal attacks or mysterious deaths._

I need to find a hobby, _he thought, bringing the glass halfway to his mouth before a foreign sound made him pause. He'd thought that the house was empty – it_ should_have been empty – but suddenly he heard the distinct sound of a human heartbeat coming from somewhere behind him. A feeling of déjà vu swept over him, leading him to eye the tumbler of bourbon warily before setting it down on the bar, untouched. _

"_What can I do for you, Jeremy?" he asked, turning around slowly to find the human occupying the exact same chair he'd been sitting in the night he'd tried to kill Damon in retaliation for snapping his neck. "Elena's not here." _

"_I know. I saw her when she came home this morning. " Jeremy replied, gazing at him evenly, elbows braced on the armrest and fingers laced over his chest. "So, are you two together now?"_

Cutting right to the chase, I see._ Crossing his arms, Damon leaned against the bar. "What did Elena say?"_

"_I didn't ask her," Jeremy replied. _

"_Why not?"_

"_Because I'm asking you," he said, blatantly challenging Damon in a way he never would have a few short months ago. _The kid's not afraid of me anymore_, __he realized, surprised at how much that pleased him and that Jeremy's opinion of him suddenly mattered._

_Just one more example of how much of his life had been irrevocably altered. _

"_Elena knows where I stand," Damon replied evasively. "If you want to know how she feels than you should ask her." _

"_I figured you'd say something like that," Jeremy grumbled, unlacing his fingers to lean forward and brace his elbows on his knees. _

"_Would it bother you if we were?" Damon asked, stunned by the fact that he was actively hoping the younger man's answer would be a definitive_ no_. "Together, I mean," he clarified needlessly. Elena didn't seem to care what her friends thought about her love life, but Jeremy's opinion mattered to her, so it mattered to him. Seeking the approval of family was a hard habit to break._

_Damon had been at it for over a century and he still hadn't perfected his technique. _

_Jeremy eyed him for a moment, twisting the Gilbert eternity ring around and around on his finger. "You'll keep her safe," the boy admitted before adding with a snort. "You were always better at that than Stefan."_

_Damon smirked. "Stefan spent too much time worrying about pissing her off." _

"_You don't?"_

"_Nope."_

"_Why not?"_

_Damon hesitated as he considered his answer. He'd never worried about making Elena mad because he'd never had anything to lose. Whether she liked him or hated him never mattered because through it all, she was with Stefan. It would _always_ be Stefan._

_Except…apparently…it wasn't anymore._

_It was him._

_And now he had everything to lose._

_He could lose _her_._

_And still…with that knowledge burning a hole in his gut and fucking with everything that he'd believed for _years_, his feelings on the matter hadn't changed._

_They probably never would._

_Shrugging, Damon answered truthfully. "I'd rather have Elena alive to hate me than have her die and it not matter anymore."_

_Jeremy nodded thoughtfully. "Yeah, that's what I thought." _

"_So, do I have your blessing?" he asked, keeping his tone light and slightly mocking to detract from how much he really wanted the answer to be 'yes'._

"_Can you make her happy?" _

_The question struck a blow to Damon's confidence, causing the smirk to falter. He could handle 'alive' and he'd been relatively successful at handling 'safe', but could he make Elena happy? He seriously doubted it. He could barely make _himself_happy._

"_I want to," he admitted quietly. _

"_Ric thinks you can," Jeremy said, rising from the chair and shoving his hands into his pockets. Lifting a shoulder, he added. "He thinks you already do."_

Huh_. __Damon hadn't expected an ally, although he hadn't expected Alaric to be against him either. "What do you think?"_

"_I'm on the fence," Jeremy replied honestly. "But I heard Elena laugh for the first time in, like, forever today. A real laugh without any…sadness in it. So, I figure that's a start." He took a breath before adding in a rush. "I know you'll protect my sister with your life and that's awesome, but I want her to be happy, too. After everything she's been through, she deserves that. Keep making her happy and I've got no problem with it."_

_Momentarily speechless, Damon stared at the teenager with the absolute certainty that if Jeremy had walked up to him and punched him in the face and he wouldn't have been as stunned as he was now. _

"_Thanks," Damon said after he found his voice. Nodding, Jeremy held his gaze for another moment before dipping his head as a flush crept up the back of his neck. _

"_That's all I came to say," he stated, backing toward the doorway and keeping his gaze averted. "I'll get out of your way." _

_Damon watched him go, letting him get to the front door before he called after him. "Hey, Jeremy?"_

"_Yeah?" the younger man asked, returning to the room and leaning against the doorframe._

"_Did you put vervaine in my liquor again?" Damon asked, studying the untouched glass of bourbon as if it might lash out and burn him. _

"_Maybe," Jeremy replied, flashing Damon a brilliant grin before turning abruptly on his heel and racing for the front door. "See ya!"_

"_Keep that ring on, Gilbert," Damon called after him, feigning anger as he smirked and rolled his eyes. Bringing the tumbler to his nose, he inhaled, searching for the acrid scent of vervaine. He was almost certain Jeremy _hadn't_attempted to incapacitate him, but Damon wet his lips and took the barest of sips anyway. _

_The bourbon burned as it went down exactly as it was meant to, prompting him to take a bigger drink as he added Jeremy's unexpected visit to the long list of insanity that had been his life for the past few days. According to the younger man, he had two simple jobs. Keep Elena safe and make her happy. Sighing, Damon took another large drink. _

_Forget having a hobby. Knowing Elena, he'd have to devote all of his time and energy into making those two separate and occasionally mutually exclusive things happen. _

But goddammit, it was worth a fucking try.

She was worth anything.

Everything.

* * *

Clenching his jaw, Damon stomped the accelerator down to the floor, watching the black-topped highway disappear beneath the hood as the SUV chewed through the miles back to Mystic Falls. He'd done everything in his power to keep his promises to Jeremy, but it hadn't been enough.

He'd tried.

He'd failed.

Elena had survived, but Damon had had nothing to do with it. It had all been Landis and stupid, dumb luck that had gotten them to this point. He'd failed to keep her safe. Failed her in every way that mattered.

Lost in his self-recriminations, he was surprised when the sign marking the Mystic Falls city limits appeared in the distance, growing larger until the SUV flew by and it disappeared into the rearview.

He was almost home…and to the living proof of his failure.

Suddenly, he wasn't ready to see Elena yet. As the SUV entered the town proper, his stomach twisted into a tight knot of anxiety, his need for speed fading as he tried to figure out what the hell he was going to say to her. _How do I apologize for getting her killed? _he wondered frantically, his grip on the steering wheel slipping as his palms began to sweat. What was he supposed to say to Alaric? To _Jeremy? _They'd counted on him – hell, _everybody _had counted on him –to keep Elena safe. It had always been the one thing he'd been good at, the one thing he'd been able to accomplish where everyone else had failed.

"What's your problem?" Katherine asked abruptly.

Startled, Damon tore his gaze away from the road to stare at her. "Huh?"

"Why are we going so slow?" she demanded, glaring at him from the passenger seat. "I just saw an old woman with a walker pass us."

Glancing down at the speedometer, he blinked, surprised to find the needle hovering at fifteen miles an hour. Frowning, Damon pressed on the accelerator and the SUV jumped forward, his panic and uncertainty increasing as the business district of Main Street gave way to the residential streets that surrounded the high school. By the time he reached the dead end road that would take him to the Salvatore house, his heart was in his throat, threatening to choke him.

_Jesus Christ, I'm not ready for this._

The house and surrounding property looked perfectly innocent and normal in the afternoon sunlight as he turned into the driveway. Easing his foot off of the gas, Damon let the SUV roll to a stop behind Stefan's grey rental car. His arms were heavy and he could barely make his fingers work as he put the SUV into park and twisted the key in the ignition, silencing the rumble of the engine.

He was home.

"Finally," Katherine muttered, busily collecting her dead cell phone and the bloody jacket that still reeked of smoke, before opening her door and putting one foot on the driveway. Looking back and noticing that he hadn't moved, she demanded. "Are you coming?"

"I…," he hesitated, his mouth dry and his stomach in knots.

"Oh for fuck's sake, Damon," Katherine exclaimed in exasperation. "Elena is in that house, waiting for you and you're going to sit here like an idiot?" she demanded, raising her brow as he continued to stare mutely through the windshield. Shaking her head in disgust when he didn't respond, she muttered. "Fine. Whatever. I did my job."

Reaching into the backseat, she retrieved the bottle of blood that she'd brought with her from The Crossroads before slamming the door and heading up the driveway.

_Come on, Salvatore. _Clearing his head with a forceful shake, Damon shook off his paralysis and pulled the keys from the ignition. Absently, he glanced around the cab of the SUV before remembering that he'd left two days ago with nothing but his cell phone.

_Quit fucking stalling. _

Closing his eyes, he blew out a breath and opened the driver's side door.

"_Damon!" _

His head snapped up, turning toward the sound of Elena's voice just in time to catch a brief glimpse of her in the open doorway of the house. She was reaching for him, one arm outstretched, her fingertips flirting with the bright sunlight before an arm snaked around her waist, lifted her bodily from the ground and yanked her back inside.

For a split second, Damon could do no more than stare at the now empty spot where Elena had been as the internal war between his need to hold her and his doubt and uncertainty came to a head.

Then he was moving.

Spurred to action by the bizarre sight, Damon blurred up the driveway to the front walk, as Elena's frantic voice carried to him through the open door.

"What the hell, Stefan? Let go of me!"

Arriving at the threshold alongside Katherine, Damon burst through the doorway to the sight of Stefan gripping Elena tightly by her arms at the foot of the stairs.

"You don't have a ring, Elena," his brother answered, raising his voice to be heard over her angry protestations. "Do you want to turn into a pile of ash on the front step right in front of Damon?"

"Well, that'd be an ironic twist, wouldn't it?" Katherine mused.

Startled, Elena gasped, whipping her head around to focus on her doppelganger for a brief second before turning her attention to Damon. Exactly as he'd envisioned, her dark brown eyes pinned him to the spot and everything came into focus.

The breath left his lungs as he sagged against the doorframe, and stared at her.

_Holy fucking…_ His brain short-circuited before he could finish forming the thought.

"Damon," Elena whispered, covering her mouth with both hands as her eyes welled with tears. Watching her closely, Stefan loosened his grip on her arms, holding her lightly to prevent her from making another run at Damon and the pool of sunlight spilling through the front door.

"Here he is, safe and sound," Katherine announced, looking pointedly at Stefan. "Just like I promised."

"You do good work," he replied, unable to hold back a grin as he dragged his gaze up and down her body with obvious appreciation despite the blood and grime staining her clothes and hair.

"Don't I know it," she replied, glancing at Damon and making a sound of disgust. He barely noticed as he stared at Elena, afraid that if he moved or spoke or even _breathed _wrong, she might disappear. Rolling her eyes, Katherine muttered. "You're standing in the sun, dumbass."

Damon looked at her blankly as she pointed at the ground. Glancing down at his feet and the pool of afternoon sunlight, he closed his eyes and swallowed, willing himself to get a grip. Focusing on the simple tasks, he stepped away from the doorframe and into the foyer, letting the door fall shut behind him.

The second he was out of the light, Elena flew into his arms, rocking him back on his heels with the strength of her momentum. Letting out a small sob, she clung to him tightly as his arms slowly came up to return the embrace. For a long moment, he simply held her, reacquainting himself with the feel of her slight form. He settled one hand on her lower back, feeling the heat from her body through the fabric of the black shirt he dimly recognized as his own. The other hand slid up the back of her neck, his fingers burying themselves in her thick, dark hair.

_Christ…_

Elena was real. She was flesh and blood and _alive _in his arms. Clinging to him, her chest pressed tightly to his, he felt her markedly slow, steady heartbeat throughout his entire body. Something clicked in his brain and he sucked in a sharp breath.

She'd completed the transition.

She was a vampire.

Everything in him – from his heart to his mind – seized for one sharp, painful moment before splintering apart in a thousand raw, wounded pieces. Closing his eyes, Damon fell back against the closed front door, taking Elena with him as he buried his face in her hair. Unable to form coherent thoughts, his world was reduced to nothing more than sensation – Elena's scent, the sound of her muffled sobs and ragged breathing, the feel of her body in his arms.

Somewhere beneath everything that was Elena, Damon was aware of the acrid odor of smoke clinging to his clothes and the blood – Landis's blood – staining his skin. He knew he needed to feed and shower and thank Stefan – even though no amount of thanks would ever, _ever, _be enough – for helping Elena and making sure that she had lived to be there in this moment.

He knew all of this and yet he couldn't move.

He was perfectly content to spend the rest of eternity right where he was, with Elena in his arms and the ornately carved front door digging uncomfortably into his back.

He wasn't sure how long they stayed like that, clinging to each other in wordless joy and relief, but eventually Elena began to move in his embrace. Pressing her lips against the hollow at the base of his throat, then higher up his neck, her hands shifted to frame his face as she kissed her way to his jaw and then finally his mouth. Frantic, rather than seductive, the contact was as fast and sharp as it was intoxicating.

"I was so worried about you," she confessed, pulling far enough away that he was able to catch a glimpse of her beautiful, tear-stained face. Her smile was the most stunning, breathtaking thing he'd ever seen. Brushing his hair off of his forehead, she traced his features as he curled his fingers into fists around the long locks of her hair.

Damon wanted to laugh. _She'd_ been worried about _him_? Licking his dry lips, he whispered. "I'm sorry."

Shaking her head furiously as more tears spilled down her cheeks, Elena tugged him toward her and captured his mouth again, murmuring between kisses. "Don't be sorry."

_She tastes the same_, he noted absently, finally breaking through his shocked haze enough to return the kiss. Pressing her cheek to his, her breath whispered over his skin in a sigh as she held him tightly. "Don't be sorry. You're okay. _We're _okay. That's all that matters."

Damon froze, his blood turning to ice in his veins as her words washed over him. His world expanded, broadened beyond Elena and the tiny bubble of space that they occupied in the foyer as the reality of all of the ways that he'd failed came back into sharp focus. Just as he'd expected, she'd already forgiven him for all of it – for sending her back to Atlanta alone, for giving Landis the opportunity to take her, torture her…

Kill her.

"_We're okay. That's all that matters."_

_If only that were true, _he thought, turning his head to capture her mouth with a desperate fervor as he tried to banish the knot of failure in his gut and soothe the tightness in his chest. He wanted so badly for it to be true, so that he could lose himself in Elena and forget that the past week had ever happened. Landis was dead. Damon had beaten the sick fuck at his own game. Elena was alive and she'd forgiven him. That was enough. It should have been enough.

It wasn't.

The guilt refused to be subdued and Damon knew that no matter how hard he tried – no matter how many times he kissed Elena, held her and heard her voice – he'd never be rid of it.

* * *

Closing her eyes on a sigh, Katherine nearly purred with pleasure as Stefan worked shampoo through her hair. Stretching out her long legs, she moved her arms languidly, luxuriating in the hot water as it sunk into her skin and soothed her tired body. She hadn't realized how much she reeked of smoke, blood and _death _until she'd put some space between herself and Damon. The second she and Stefan had made it up the stairs to his room, she'd made a beeline for the tub and drawn a bath.

In a perfect world, Stefan would have joined her. The second she'd laid eyes on him, she'd wanted nothing more than to rip his clothes off and have her way with him. If it hadn't been for Damon and Elena's melodramatic – although even she had to admit it was well-deserved – reunion going on in the middle of the entryway, she might have done just that. Instead, she'd taken him up on his offer to wash her hair, putting sex on hold because _goddamn _the man had amazing hands.

"So, how'd it go?" Stefan asked quietly, his fingertips digging into her scalp with just the right amount of pressure.

"Perfectly," Katherine replied, reaching for the washcloth and soap on a small stand near the tub. Using the cloth, she went to work getting the blood out from beneath her fingernails. "I brought him back alive, didn't I?"

"You did," Stefan agreed, working his way toward the tight muscles at the base of her neck. Abandoning her nails for the moment, she moaned and let her head fall forward as he began working out the knots between her shoulder blades.

"Oh…_fuck, _that's amazing," she mumbled, closing her eyes.

"Is Landis dead?" he asked as the tension in Katherine's body continued to melt away.

"Mmmhmm," she sighed, biting her lip to hold back a groan as the pressure from his talented hands sent sparks directly to her erogenous zones. When she got out of that tub, she was going to drag him into bed and make up for the lost time in ways Stefan couldn't even fathom.

"How's Damon?"

"He was impressive," Katherine admitted, wishing Stefan would shut the hell up and let his hands do the talking. "He made Landis suffer. Killed Gregory right in front of him and then burned him alive."

"That is impressive," Stefan agreed, falling mercifully silent for a solid five minute stretch. Katherine was nearly ready to pull him into the tub fully clothed, when he spoke again. "How _is _Damon?"

Heaving an exasperated sigh, Katherine frowned. "I just told you, he…" she paused as the full meaning of Stefan's question became clear. "Oh," she said, thinking back to the drive from South Carolina. The euphoria of learning that Elena was alive had lasted to the state line. At that point, Damon had fallen into a silent, brooding funk that had rendered him incapable of speaking to her in more than monosyllabic grunts. It hadn't taken a rocket scientist to figure out the problem. "He's happy that Elena's alive, but if he's not careful, his guilt is going to destroy him."

"What do you think he feels guilty for?" Stefan asked as he began to work his way back up her body to her hair.

"Christ, Stefan, I don't know," Katherine snapped, sick of talking about Damon and Elena and their never ending problems. "Everything. For letting her get kidnapped, for not saving her, for not realizing she was in transition and being here when she woke up…take your pick, he probably feels guilty for all of it."

"Hmmm," he replied noncommittally, delving his fingers into her hair as he fell silent once again. _I can't wait to get out of here, _she thought darkly as she tried to focus on the pleasure of Stefan's touch and the promise of what they'd do together as soon as she got out of the bath. Just as the irritation melted away and she thought she'd succeeded she felt Stefan's fingers curl into fists, tightening around the thick, soapy locks.

Normally, she enjoyed a little pain with her pleasure, but the sensation was jarring and uncomfortable after the delight of the massage. "Stefan, that's a little-."

In one swift movement, he shoved her head down, holding it in place long enough for her to suck in a lungful of water. She flailed her arms and legs, fighting against his hold for a moment, but even with her superior strength he had her at a disadvantage.

An instant later, the pressure was gone and she was gasping and sputtering as she coughed up soapy water.

"What the fuck?" she cried, squinting against the burn of the shampoo suds as they slid down her face and into her eye. "Stefan!"

Nothing.

The bathroom was empty.

Ducking under water again, Katherine rinsed the soap from her hair before climbing out of the tub and stalking into Stefan's bathroom without stopping to pick up a towel. Glaring at him, she demanded. "What the hell was that for?"

Glancing at her naked body and the pool of water collecting on the hardwood floor at her feet, Stefan shrugged. "I told you to keep your cell phone on," he said, completely unperturbed as he uncorked the bottle of blood and took a sip.

Katherine's eyes widened. "I _did _keep my phone on."

"Then why didn't you answer it?"

Crossing her arms over her naked breasts, Katherine fumed. "So, I forgot it in the car. Big fucking deal. I had more important things on my mind anyway," she insisted. "Babysitting Damon was no easy task. You should be thanking me, not trying to drown me."

A smirk played at the corner of his lips as he narrowed his eyes at her. Slowly, he approached her, reaching out to touch her face, but she slapped his hand down and jerked away.

"Katherine," he said playfully. "I'm trying to thank you."

"Fuck your thanks," she retorted haughtily as she allowed him to trail his fingers along her jaw before sinking into her hair. Standing absolutely still, she made him come to her and refused to respond when his lips first brushed hers. Stefan was persistent, however, and patient, causing her to abandon her pride with alarming ease.

Sinking into the kiss, Katherine took the bottle of blood from him, allowing his hands free access to roam over her bare skin. While the massage had been amazing, _this _felt even better. Backing him up toward his bed, she forced him to the mattress, straddling his lap as his tongue explored the contours of her mouth.

"I can't wait to get out of here," she murmured between kisses. "I miss it being just the two of us."

Stefan chuckled, his hands cupping the curve of her bottom as he pulled her tighter against him. "We've only been here three days."

"It feels like forever," she pouted, pulling away to trace his lips with her finger before taking a drink from the bottle of blood.

"Well, it's going to feel even longer," Stefan replied, taking the bottle from her hands and setting it on the nightstand. She frowned as he turned back to her, brushing her wet hair off of her forehead.

"Why?"

"Because we're not leaving yet."

"_What_?"

"I need to stay," he revealed, tightening his grip on her as she tried to squirm off of his lap.

"No, you don't," she insisted vehemently. "You did what Damon asked. You helped him get Elena back. You don't owe him-."

"Yes, I do," Stefan said softly, effectively silencing her. Katherine sighed as his gaze shifted to a spot over her shoulder and his eyes took on a faraway look. "Three years ago, Damon and Elena risked everything to save me from Klaus. To save you, too," he said as she rolled her eyes. "It wasn't their fight, but they did it anyway. For us."

"For _you_," she pointed out, although his logic was having an annoying effect on her negotiable morals.

"Elena pretended to be you," Stefan reminded her. "She let herself be chained up in the tomb and took on an Original vampire because you couldn't-."

"I remember," Katherine snapped, huffing in disgust of the memory of her own cowardice. Letting out a frustrated groan, she said. "Fine. Fine, we…_owe _them. Can't we…owe them from a few thousand miles away? Tell them to put us on speed dial and just…give us a call when they need moral support or something?"

"What, like a vampire crisis prevention hotline?" he teased, but Katherine refused to crack a smile. "Come on, it won't be that bad. There's nothing we can do elsewhere that we can't do here in Mystic Falls. And it will only be for a few months."

_Months? _Katherine balked. "I'm sorry, did you just say _months?_"

"Hey, if you're especially helpful, it could be less than that," Stefan said with a shrug before turning serious once again. "I want Damon to be happy, Katherine, and it's times like these when he's his own worst enemy. I don't want him to ruin the best thing that has ever happened to him."

Katherine sighed. "Alright," she agreed, even though she knew that she didn't have a say in the matter. Stefan was going to stay in Mystic Falls and hold Damon's hand while Elena learned to become a vampire whether Katherine liked it or not. Even her jaded, cynical self couldn't argue with the fact that Stefan was right. Damon – and Elena – deserved to be happy and if left to their own devices, they'd probably implode in spectacular fashion. "We'll stay."

"Thank you," Stefan said, pressing a chaste kiss to her lips that quickly deepened to something more. Tugging his shirt over his head, Katherine pushed him back to the mattress, determined to enjoy herself and forget about the fact that she was stuck in Mystic Falls for the foreseeable future.

_Months, _she thought, grumbling internally as she made quick work of the button and zipper on Stefan's jeans. He owed her. Big time. And she was going to start collecting immediately.

* * *

Elena tapped her nails against the granite countertop in the kitchen, listening to the whir of the microwave as she watched the digital numbers count down to zero for the second time. The scent of blood was thick in the air as she warmed a glass for Damon, making her mouth water and her gums ache. Self-consciously, she wiped her lips as two empty blood bags seemed to glare accusingly at her from the sink.

Her first attempt to make him dinner hadn't gone according to plan. She'd kept her cool until she'd opened the door to the microwave and the aroma of the blood had slammed into her at full force. The next thing she knew, she'd been guzzling the blood like she hadn't fed in days. A few drops had escaped the seal of her lips in her eagerness and she'd barely kept it from dribbling down her chin and onto her shirt.

_This time will be better, _she promised herself as the timer dinged and the light inside of the machine blinked out. Blowing out a breath, Elena braced herself against the scent of the blood and pressed the button to release the door. Swaying on her feet as the aroma overwhelmed her senses, she closed her eyes and gripped the counter. _I can do this, _she thought, trying to focus on Damon. After she'd stopped crying long enough to really _look _at him, she'd realized that he needed two things: blood and a shower. While he'd gone upstairs to take care of the latter, she'd made her way to the kitchen to focus on the former.

The surge of bloodlust waned eventually, finally allowing her to pick up the glass and close the door to the microwave. Moving with purpose, she distracted herself from the blood by paying careful attention to the way her bare feet connected with the tiles and then the hardwood floor as she made her way toward Damon's room.

The hand holding the glass began to tremble as she crested the first landing on the staircase. By the time she reached the door to Damon's room, she had to hang onto the glass with both hands to keep from spilling the contents all over the floor. Twin pinpricks of pain shot through her gums as her fangs descended and judging from the heat around her eyes, the black veins had surfaced.

Steam rolled out of the shower as Elena made her way across the darkened bedroom. Wrapping a towel around his waist, Damon lifted his head as she approached. The weight of his surprised gaze made her cheeks flush with heat for reasons that had nothing to do with the blood and everything to do with him.

_Jesus_. Had his eyes always been that blue?

Holding her breath, she set the glass carefully on the counter and nudged it toward Damon with her fingertips. "Drink that," she said, her voice strangely altered by her elongated canines. "Fast."

He hesitated for only a moment before picking up the glass and drinking the contents in a few large gulps. Curling her fingers around the edge of the counter, she sagged as the scent of blood faded and the all-consuming thirst eased. "Thank you," she murmured, keeping her head bowed as she waited for her fangs to retract and the heat to dissipate.

Reaching for her, Damon brushed the dark curtain of her hair over her shoulder and forced her to lift her head. Elena sighed, trying to meet his gaze and failing, her eyes instead locking on the hollow at the base of his throat. His thumb brushed over the delicate skin below her lashes, tracing the pattern of the veins that throbbed with greater intensity at his touch. _Why do I feel self-conscious? _she wondered. This was _Damon – _he knew her better than anybody and had always loved her, no matter what. Elena swallowed, closing her eyes briefly before finally meeting his gaze.

And getting lost all over again.

"Hi." He murmured softly, his thumb sweeping over her bottom lip in a soothing caress.

"Hi." She whispered back, her hands rising to lightly grip his waist. The heat around her eyes faded slowly, the veins withdrawing to again leave the skin soft and unmarred.

Something inscrutable flashed in his eyes for a moment, making her stomach flip and her breath catch, but it was gone before she could attempt to indentify it. Running her tongue over her teeth, she noticed with relief that her canines had also retreated.

"You didn't have to bring me that," Damon said, continuing to lightly stroke her cheek with his thumb. "I could have done it myself."

"I'm testing my control," she replied, trying to keep her voice light, but failing miserably as she leaned into the touch, a pulsing desire for more replacing the bloodlust that had dominated her thoughts only seconds before. "I didn't do very well," she admitted with a little laugh. "This was my second try."

A ghost of his usual smirk danced across his lips. "You've been a vampire for less than a day," he pointed out, trying to pull his hand away. "You don't have to test anything yet."

"Yes, I do," she insisted, covering his hand with her own and pressing her cheek into his palm to prolong the contact. It grounded her at the same time that it sent her senses into a whirlwind. "Jeremy, Ric and Bonnie had to leave after I completed the transition. I could hear their heartbeats on the other side of the house. I don't want to have to stay away from my family and friends."

"Good thing that half of them are vampires and werewolves, then," he sneered before leaning closer and pressing a kiss to her forehead. Elena blinked as the uncharacteristic move gave her an odd sense of deja vu. "You should get some sleep."

Shaking herself out of her momentary paralysis, she replied. "So should you." Mimicking his earlier movements, she cupped his cheek, forcing him to look at her. The blood was only beginning to do its work. Dark bruises beneath his eyes stood out in sharp contrast to the unnatural - even for a vampire - paleness of his skin. He didn't look as bad as he had in the motel room in Savannah all those years ago, but it was a close second. "I guess vampires do need to sleep after all, huh?"

"Go on," he said, tipping his head toward the bed in his darkened room. "I'll be there."

Elena hesitated. As much as she wanted to sink into the mattress and curl up beneath the covers, she was unwilling to leave his side even for the few minutes it would take him to finish drying off and get ready for bed. She felt like they'd been separated for a year rather than a week and she wanted to get rid of the gnawing, nameless anxiety that had grown steadily since they'd parted in the foyer. Distance wouldn't make that feeling go away, they needed closeness – preferably in the form of making love to him until she couldn't move.

_But he's been through a lot,_ she reminded herself as she nodded and offered him another strained smile. Reluctantly, she forced her feet to move, backing away from him until she hit the hardwood floor of the darkened bedroom. Turning around she took another step toward his bed before a memory blind-sided her with astonishing clarity.

* * *

_Sighing, Elena put her toothbrush back in the holder by the sink before examining her arm. The skin was smooth and perfect like it had always been, even when she'd been linked to Katherine and writhing in agony. She hadn't noticed it at the masquerade ball, but now that she was at home and safe and out of the bloody clothes she'd been stuck in for the past two days, she realized that she'd never had an actual wound. She'd simply bled in sympathy with Katherine, blood oozing from her unmarred skin wherever the vampire had been cut. _

_It had freaked her out. _

_Shaking her head, she shoved the incident to the back of her mind, locking it away in the box she kept for all of the horrible shit that had happened to her in the past few months. The therapist her guidance counselor had made her see would have frowned on her coping mechanism – calling it unhealthy, maybe even dangerous – but Elena didn't care._ I'd love to see _her_ deal with vampires and werewolves and finding out she's some kind of mystical doppelganger – whatever the hell _that_ is.

_At the moment, all Elena cared about was crawling into bed and passing out for the next twelve hours – at least. _

_Focusing on the floor, she tucked her hair absently behind her ear as she made her way into her bedroom._

"_Cute pj's," a voice said unexpectedly, bringing her to an abrupt halt. Sitting on her window seat and bracing his elbows on his knees, Damon offered her a strained smile. If she hadn't been half dead on her feet, she might have been shocked and terrified. As it stood, she was only able to muster surprise and wariness. _

"_I'm tired, Damon," she said, shifting on her feet as she tried not to look at him for too long. She'd lost her necklace and been far too tired to brew a pot of tea to lace with vervaine. She didn't want to believe that he'd compel her, but she never would have thought he'd kill her brother either. _

_Rising from the window seat, Damon approached her slowly, his usual smirk curving his lips. There was something odd about it, however, but before Elena had a chance to figure out what, her gaze was drawn to the unbelievable sight of her necklace, dangling by its chain from his fingertips. "Brought you this."_

"_I thought that was gone," she breathed in astonishment as he shook his head. "Thank you," she said, putting aside the tension between them in a moment of genuine gratitude. Jerking his hand away, Damon shook his head again, causing the wariness to spike into anxiety as her necklace was pulled just out of her reach. Elena lowered her hand slowly. "Please give it back."_

_Damon hesitated before admitting. "I just have to say something."_

_She backed up as he took a tentative step forward. "Why do you have to say it with my necklace?" she demanded, hating the real fear that laced her tone. Stefan had offered to stay with her that night, but she'd been so sick of vampires and supernatural bullshit that the very idea had made her stomach turn. Now she wished she'd said yes. _

_Damon frowned. "Well, because what I'm about to say is…probably the most selfish thing I've ever said in my life," he confessed, visibly uncomfortable. Elena's stomach flipped as it dawned on her why his expression had seemed so odd. _

_He was just as nervous as she was. _

"_Damon, don't go there," she cautioned instinctively, not entirely sure where _there_ was, but with the memory of the last time he'd been in her bedroom fresh in her mind. She didn't want to deal with another round of romantic overtures that she'd have to knock down – especially considering he'd helped save her life that day. _

"_I just have to say it once. You just need to hear it," he said urgently, leaving no room for argument as he continued to invade her space. Staring at him, utterly transfixed even as she tried to back away, Elena felt her pulse begin to race. He didn't stop until he was practically standing on her toes, gazing into her eyes with that penetrating gaze that had always unnerved her. When he looked at her like that, she knew he was seeing things that no one else – not even Stefan – had ever seen. Most of the time she wanted to stop him, to keep him from seeing that deeply, but strangely enough tonight, in this moment, she found herself wishing he'd tell her what he saw. Nodding his head slightly, he murmured. "I love you, Elena." _

_Elena stared at him, her lips parting slightly as her lungs quit functioning properly and her world screeched to a halt. He _loved_ her? No. No, that wasn't right. Damon Salvatore didn't love her. He had feelings for her – real and intense – but they weren't love. They _couldn't_ be love. _

"_And it's because I love you that…I can't be selfish with you," he continued, ignoring her inner turmoil as he searched her face with an aching sincerity. "And why you can't know this," he admitted, regret tingeing his voice. Elena frowned at his choice of words, but before she had a chance to consider their full meaning, Damon continued his confession._

"_I don't deserve you," he said, shaking his head slightly as he kept his gaze trained steadily on her face, searching her eyes with penetrating clarity. "But my brother does." _

_Gasping softly around the lump in her throat, Elena stood rooted to the spot as Damon leaned in and kissed her forehead with a gentleness that sliced straight through to her heart. Why was he doing this? As beautiful and real and _good_ as the moment was, it didn't change how she felt. She loved Stefan. It would _always_ be Stefan. _

_Wouldn't it? Suddenly, her conviction didn't feel quite as deep._

_Pulling away, Damon lifted a hand to the side of her head, ghosting his palm over her hair before touching her cheek. "God, I wish you didn't have to forget this," he murmured, more to himself than to her. Elena frowned as his gaze finally shifted away from her face and followed the path of his hand as it smoothed over her hair. The light of her bedside lamp reflected off of the sheen of tears in his eyes as he caught her gaze again and held it, whispering. "But you do."_

_Moved by a force completely beyond her control, Elena closed her eyes. _

* * *

Swaying, Elena brought a hand to her mouth to stifle a gasp. She'd thought about that night over the years with a disconcerting certainty that her memory had been somehow wrong. Her memory of that night had been a series of snapshots. One moment she'd been in her bathroom, getting ready for bed, the next she'd been standing in her bedroom, the weight of the vervaine filled pendant heavy against her chest. She'd sat down on her bed, staring at the white curtain fluttering in the breeze of her open window for a solid five minutes before she'd chalked the confusion up to exhaustion and climbed into bed.

But it hadn't been exhaustion. It had been _Damon_, telling her he loved her for the first time. Now that she was a vampire, she remembered it all – the way he'd secured the necklace around her neck and whispered goodnight before ducking out of the window.

She'd always known – long before his deathbed confession, Elena had known that what he felt for her went deeper than lust, longing or simple _like –_ but she'd never been able to explain her certainty. Now, she understood it.

Whirling around, she stared at him from the darkened bedroom. _Why didn't he ever tell me? _she wondered as he stood before the bathroom mirror, oblivious to her gaze. Lifting his head, Damon caught her eye in the reflection, causing a sudden surge of love for him to well up inside of her until she thought she'd combust with the intensity of it. Elena had known that turning would wreak havoc on her emotions, but it was one thing to _know, _a completely different thing to experience it.

Rushing back into the bathroom, she took his face between her hands, kissing him hard without preamble. "I love you," she whispered fiercely, tasting the blood she'd given him as well as the salt of the tears she hadn't known had fallen as she moved her mouth over his. Standing on her toes, she eased back to sit on the counter, wrapping her legs around him to pull him closer.

_I'll ask him about it later, _she decided, whimpering in relief as he finally responded to her ardent show of affection, kissing her back with a passion that matched her own as he gripped her hips tightly. Later, after they'd recovered from their separation and her unexpected death, she'd ask him about everything. They'd talk about the compulsion, what had happened with Landis and every other horrible, terrifying thing that had occurred in the past week. _We have time, _Elena reminded herself. She was a vampire now. They had all of the time in the world. The only thing that mattered to her in that moment was making sure that he knew that Landis hadn't succeeded in destroying them.

"I love you," she murmured again, making it a promise as she closed her eyes and leaned her forehead against his, keeping him close

"I love you, too," Damon said, his breath ragged as he smoothed his hands up and down the sides of her body. Elena bit her lip and buried her face in the crook of his neck, trying to control the smile that threatened to split her face in two. _It's going to be okay, _she thought as genuine relief coursed through her and the persistent anxiety she'd been grappling with since she'd woken up eased. Everything had changed and yet what mattered had stayed the same.

Damon still loved her.

They were going to be okay.

* * *

_Normally, I wouldn't do this, but this chapter has a slight ring of finality to it and I felt the need to let you know that this is not the end. Not quite yet, so don't go anywhere. _

_Eeep! I so hope this chapter lived up to the hype. Thank you so much for your amazing replies! _


	19. First Mission

_AN: And thus begins Act IV of our tale. Pretty much everybody expressed their concern over how Damon and Elena were going to get past Landis' machinations, whether Damon would be able to forgive himself for what he 'let' happen and how Elena was going to deal with becoming a vampire. _

_Welp...this is it. As always, my beta was a total rockstar on this chapter, so all thanks goes to her for being awesome. Enjoy! _

Chapter Nineteen - First Mission

The monster rose up out of the darkness, rendering Elena mute with terror as a pair of cold blue eyes and a leering grin paralyzed her faster than any compulsion. She opened her mouth to scream as his hand appeared, touching her cheek in a grotesque imitation of a loving caress. Despite her paralysis, she could feel his touch throughout her entire being, turning her stomach, the bile burning at the back of her throat. His grin widened at the sight of the hateful, weak tears gathering in her eyes.

"Hello, Elena," Landis murmured, making her shiver. The entrance to her apartment building materialized around her as she gaped at him in silence. Frantically, she scanned the parking area for help, but she was alone.

Completely alone.

Landis cocked his head and winked. "Be a good girl and invite me in."

She blinked and the scene shifted, transporting her and Landis into the hallway outside of her apartment. Glancing around anxiously, she shook her head. "No."

Raising a brow, Landis tried again. "Please?" he coaxed, the maddening smile still on his lips even though his eyes were icy and hard.

"What do you…what do you want?" she asked breathlessly, the vervaine bracelet on her wrist feeling conspicuous, fragile and utterly useless. Desperately she wished that Damon would miraculously return from Mystic Falls and come to her rescue.

"It's a surprise," he said, making her blood run cold at the possibilities as he trailed a finger down her bare forearm. Reaching inside of her bag for her keys, Elena's stomach rolled with revulsion as she wracked her brain. She needed a plan. She needed _Damon._ She needed –

_Mace. _Her fingers curled around the metal cylinder at the bottom of her bag, a going away present from Alaric that she had always carried with her, but had never used. The mace wouldn't incapacitate a vampire, but it might buy her a few seconds.

Enough to duck inside of her apartment where she'd be safe from an uninvited vampire.

Stopping in front of her door, Elena hid the weapon in her left hand, retrieving her keys with her right. Slipping an arm around her waist, Landis leaned in close, his breath stirring the hairs at her temple as she opened the door with trembling hands. The instant the lock popped and the door swung inward, she made her move, raising the canister and aiming it at the monster's surprised face. The spray hit him in the eye, making him roar with pain, releasing the grip on her wrist to cover his face.

Choking and gasping for breath as the mace burned her eyes as well, Elena tried to dive across the threshold, but Landis recovered too quickly. Her hands flew up automatically as he grabbed a fistful of her hair and yanked her backward against his chest. Abandoning all pretense of doing as he asked, she fought back, clawing at his hands and kicking her legs.

"You will stop," he commanded, taking her face between his hands and forcing her to meet his gaze. "You will stop and be silent."

Opening her mouth to scream at him in defiance, Elena's body betrayed her, her arms falling limply to her sides as her jaw slackened. Landis's features were contorted into a horrific mask of fury, his pale skin flushed, his eyes red-rimmed and raw as a result of her attack. She wanted to cringe, to look away, but all she could do was stand dumbly in place.

_What the hell? _she thought, her panic rising as understanding dawned. The familiar weight of her silver bracelet was gone, leaving her wrist feeling naked and vulnerable. Icy fear coursed down her spine as her eyes watered with tears.

Leaving _her _vulnerable.

She'd been compelled.

No.

_No._

"You'll pay for that," Landis hissed as the affects of the mace wore off and his skin returned to its normal pale shade. Wiping away the tears that had run down his cheek with the back of his hand, he gripped her jaw with bruising force before making another demand. "Now, invite me in."

Screaming internally, Elena did as she was compelled, allowing Landis to drag her into the home she'd made with Damon. She caught a brief glimpse of her bracelet lying on the floor by the dining room table before Landis dragged her down the hallway. The idea of that monster in her bedroom was revolting, but she couldn't protest.

Rendered mute and complacent by the compulsion, Elena struggled to keep her feet as her vision blurred and she began to lose time. One moment she was in the hallway, the next she was being tossed toward the bed while Landis loomed over her. He disappeared, calling out to her from her closet a split second before she found herself in the same small space, clutching a white dress to her chest as Landis nodded approvingly.

The moments came faster, the snapshots flashing across her mind's eye with dizzying speed.

Landis's snarl of anger as she refused to put on the dress.

Cracking her head on the hardwood floor of the closet after he sent her flying with a brutal backhand.

Tripping over her shoes as she carried the dress out of the closet.

Hot, salty tears streaming down her face as she silently disrobed in front of him.

Screaming internally, the sound grew louder and louder until it finally filled her world, ricocheting off of the walls at a deafening volume. Beneath that unheard protest, she heard Damon's voice, calling her name, repeating it over and over and over.

Elena_._

_Elena._

"Elena!"

She gasped, her eyes flying open as she looked wildly at her surroundings. Curtains, bookcases, chairs and a nightstand stood out in sharp relief from the shadows, practically glowing with an inner light that she knew was a result of her heightened senses. Immediately, she recognized the surroundings.

Damon's room.

Damon's bed.

_In his arms,_ she realized, finally recognizing the strength of his embrace as he gazed at her, concerned but unsurprised. "Nightmare?" he asked, catching her eye as he brushed her hair off of her sweaty brow.

She nodded, a sob bubbling up in her throat as she threw her arms around his neck. The nightmare blind-sided her every night, rearing up from the depths of her sub-conscious and yanking her from the calm peace of a dreamless slumber. Sinking its claws into her psyche, it pulled her down into the darkness where Landis lay in wait, forcing her to relive her time with him in excruciating detail over and over again. Pressing her cheek to Damon's chest, she clung to him as he pulled her into his lap and leaned back against the pillows.

"You're okay," he murmured, kissing the top of her head, her temple, her cheek – wherever he could reach – in between whispered assurances. "It was just a dream. Landis is dead. You're safe, Elena."

She nodded again, holding onto him so tightly her shoulders ached with the effort, but he didn't complain. He never complained. Every night she woke up in a panic and every night, Damon was there to banish the demons. This was their ritual, their new normal.

Eventually, her tears subsided enough for her to speak. "Are you real?" she asked in a broken whisper – another ritual, another assurance.

Cursing softly, Damon grabbed her chin, forcing her to look at him before he claimed her lips in a kiss that chased away the terror – giving her what she needed, the assurance that she wasn't still trapped in that hotel room, dying slowly as she waited for rescue.

Waiting for him.

"I'm real, Elena," he insisted, pulling away and roughly wiping the tears from her cheeks. "I love you, and I promise you I will never leave you again, do you understand me?"

"Yes," she said, holding his gaze for another moment before burying her face in the crook of his neck. Breathing deeply, she found solace in everything that was _Damon – _his touch, his scent, the timbre of his voice as he continued to talk her down from the frenzied heights of the nightmare. She felt at home and safe in his arms, just like he'd promised her and before long her erratic heartbeat had slowed to match his.

Smoothing her hand up his chest and over his shoulder to sink her fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck, Elena whispered. "I love you, too."

* * *

Jerking awake with a start, Elena lifted her face from where it had been pressed into the mattress and gazed, bleary-eyed, around Damon's bedroom. Light peaked through the gaps in the heavy curtains, clueing her in to the fact that it was after dawn. She was sprawled across the bed on her stomach, clinging to Damon's pillow, the sheets a tangled mess around her legs.

A glass of blood was on the nightstand, waiting for her.

"Dammit, Damon," Elena groaned, rolling onto her back and pushing her hair out of her face. The silver daylight ring that Bonnie had made her flashed in the early morning sunlight playing across the bed. Holding it aloft, Elena glared at it as if _it _were somehow to blame.

Damon wasn't there – just like he hadn't been there for the past nine mornings.

She'd woken up alone.

Again.

Another ritual.

_But at least he brings me breakfast in bed, _she thought derisively, letting her hand fall to the mattress as she turned toward the mouthwatering offering on the bedside table. Giving in to the insistent thirst, Elena rolled over and reached for the blood. Holding it in both hands, she sat up and settled against the pillows, bringing the glass to her lips and attempting to take a slow, controlled sip. The effort pushed thoughts of Damon and his daily disappearing act from her mind as she fought with the bloodlust.

Her control _was_ improving. With Jeremy, Alaric and Bonnie – at least until a few days ago when the witch had had to return to the life she'd built for herself outside of Mystic Falls – acting as her willing guinea pigs, Elena had quickly learned to lower the volume on her heightened senses. She'd tuned in to Damon and Caroline's whispered conversations across the room, rather than Bonnie's steady, human heartbeat. Instead of the rich scent of Alaric's warm blood, she'd focused on picking out the individual notes of fragrance in her perfume.

She'd traced the ornate patterns in the Persian rug over and over again, rather than stare at Jeremy's throat and the pulsing vein that had practically begged to be tapped.

Shit.

Suddenly ravenous, Elena threw back her head, gulping the blood down so fast that she nearly choked. Her eyes burned and her gums throbbed, but it was over so quickly that she didn't have time to fully vamp out. Automatically wiping her mouth to catch any errant drops, Elena wasn't surprised when the back of her hand came away smeared with red. She noted, however, that despite her haste, she'd managed to keep from staining her clothes or the sheets.

_Progress, _she mused, returning the empty glass to the nightstand and drawing her knees to her chest. She wanted to progress faster, but the baby steps were something – at least she could give her brother a hug without ripping his throat out and draining him dry.

Resolving that worry, however, merely opened the door for her to obsess over others.

Namely Damon.

Since returning to Mystic Falls a week ago, something had been off with her boyfriend and Elena was having a difficult time putting her finger on it - let alone figuring out a way to fix it. Physically, he was present in every moment, sticking to her side like glue whenever they left the house. The only time Elena had her own space was when she was safely within the walls of the Salvatore house and even that was negotiable if Jeremy or Alaric were around. Working together, Damon and Caroline were teaching her about her new abilities and how to control the bloodlust. They were holding her hand as she learned how to deal with her heightened sense of…_everything. _

Emotionally, however, she and Damon weren't even in the same state. He was distant and withdrawn, changing the subject or answering in monosyllables that killed the conversation whenever she tried to bring up what Landis had done to them. When she touched him, he was cold, when she hugged him, he was unmoved and when she kissed him he held the passion just out of her reach. She could taste it on his lips, could feel it almost vibrating throughout his whole body,but she was unable to grab a hold of it. He was keeping her at arms length - figuratively and literally. The smaller things—the kisses, the hugs, the romantic gestures—she'd brushed away. _That _was stress.

The bigger things were not so easily ignored.

They hadn't made love since the night before he'd put her on a plane and shipped her back to Atlanta.

Dropping her forehead to her knees, Elena groaned in frustration. During the first few days of her transition, she'd been too caught up in the sensory overload of being a vampire to think about sex. She'd funneled all of her focus into learning to control the bloodlust so that she could be around her family. By the time Elena had acknowledged how badly she wanted to be with Damon again, their lack of intimacy had become a _thing_ – a big, shiny pink elephant tap dancing in the room between them.

The forced abstinence would have been bad enough as a human, but as a new vampire, with her libido just as heightened as her senses and emotions, it was nearly unbearable.

The only time things felt right between them was in the dead of night when she woke up screaming from the nightmares. Then he was _Damon_ - warm, open and fiercely protective. It was during the night, that he held her and reassured her that he was real, that she was safe, that Landis was dead…that he loved her.

Lifting her head, Elena ran her fingers through her hair and sighed. The reminders of the way things were supposed to be between them were the only things keeping her sane.

She was startled out of her maudlin introspection by her ringing cell phone. Crawling to the opposite side of the bed, she picked it up from the nightstand, smiling tiredly upon seeing Caroline's name flash across the screen.

"Hey Caroline," Elena said, clearing her throat in an attempt to hide the fact that she'd been sleeping from her best friend.

"Did I wake you up?" the other vampire demanded.

"No," she replied truthfully. _I've been awake for ten whole minutes. _

"Oh, good," Caroline said, the smile evident in her tone. "I just wanted to make sure you and Damon were on for our lesson of the day."

_Goddamit. _Elena let her head fall back against the headboard with a dull _thunk._ The lesson of the day was a trip to the Grille for lunch to immerse Elena in an unpredictable environment so she could learn to deal with the unexpected without killing anybody. It was all well and good, as Damon had explained, to control herself around Jeremy and Alaric, but it was something else entirely to keep it together around perfect strangers. Caroline had agreed.

Elena had called them both crazy.

"Yeah, we're still on," she said, swinging her legs over the side of the bed and padding barefoot across the room.

"Awesome!" Caroline chirped. "I'll see you at noon. Bye!"

"Yeah, bye," Elena said, hanging up with a sigh and tossing the phone on the bathroom counter. For a long moment, she kept her gaze lowered, tracing patterns in the granite surface as she lifted her gaze, inch by agonizing inch, until she was staring at her reflection in the mirror.

Another ritual.

She looked the same. Same dark eyes, same olive complexion, same long, brown hair. Bloodlust and heightened senses aside, she _felt _the same.

So, why wasn't anything the same?

* * *

Something heavy hit the mattress at Stefan's side, shaking the bed and rousing him from a deep sleep. Squinting against the sunlight pouring through his bedroom window, he rolled over just in time to see the lid of a suitcase before it collided with his face.

"Fuck, ow," he cried in surprise rather than pain, shoving the suitcase away as he pushed himself up against the pillows. "Katherine…What the hell are you doing?"

"Packing," she muttered, barely glancing his way as she tapped a fingernail against her lips and surveyed the piles of clothing and personal belongings scattered around the room.

"Are you going somewhere?" he asked as she kept her back to him. Suitcase assault aside, there were worse ways to wake up and Stefan took in the view with appreciation. Katherine's dark red silk robe was short, barely covering the curve of her perfect ass and exposing miles of bare leg for him to admire. He cocked his head as she shifted her weight and braced her hand on her hip, making the shimmery fabric ride up and improving the view exponentially.

"It's not polite to stare, Salvatore," Katherine said, drawing his gaze up over the curves of her body to her face as she smirked at him from over her shoulder.

Stefan shrugged, grinning as he settled back against the pillows and watched her focus shift back to her task with a single-minded purpose. He said nothing for a few moments as she went to the collection of shoes in the corner closest to the closet. "So…packing," he said as she carefully arranged a pair of knee-high boots in the bottom of the bag. "Why exactly?"

"Because that is what one does when getting the hell out of Dodge," Katherine replied, returning to the pile and retrieving a pair of burgundy stilettos. "And this little fuck of a town is Dodge."

"Hmm," he said noncommittally.

"Bonnie already left," Katherine continued, gesturing with one shoe as she carefully tucked the other into place in the bottom of the suitcase. "Jeremy's leaving tomorrow. Damon and Caroline have been attached to Elena's side like second shadows, teaching her how to be the perfect little non-violent vampire and she hasn't killed anybody."

"Yet," Stefan supplied dryly.

"Fine. _Yet_," she amended, waving the shoe at him before fitting it into place like a puzzle piece. Picking up a pile of her clothes from the floor, she deposited them onto the foot of the bed and began folding a tiny black camisole. "But it's been nine whole days. She's doing pretty damn well, so I say you've done your brotherly duty and it's time we got back to our life."

Dragging a hand over his face, Stefan sighed, keeping quiet as Katherine continued folding clothes, marveling over the fact that she'd managed to pack so much in the forty-five minutes they'd had to get ready before catching the red-eye to Norfolk International.

He understood her desire to leave. Mystic Falls held a lot of memories – uncomfortable memories – for both of them. Katherine liked to pretend that she never felt guilt or remorse over her past actions, but Stefan knew better. The tough-as-nails, above-it-all Katherine Pierce who'd irrevocably altered the course of his life in 1864 had vanished just as surely as the broody, bunny-blood drinking Stefan Salvatore and she hated it. Being stuck at the scene of her crimes only made it worse.

Not that Katherine would ever admit it.

He wanted to give her what _she _wanted, to climb out of bed and help her pack so that they could leave town and put more space between themselves and the reminders of their past, but he couldn't. Not yet. Elena's transition had been successful thus far, but something wasn't right – something between her and Damon.

Stefan just wasn't sure what it was.

"Katherine," he said quietly.

She ignored him.

"Katherine," he said again, watching her movements become more agitated as she finished folding the first pile of clothes and tossed them into the suitcase, nearly ruining her work.

"_Katherine_ –."

"_Don't say it_," she commanded, gripping the edge of the suitcase.

"We can't leave yet."

Closing her eyes, Katherine clenched her jaw. "No?"

"I told you, I want to make sure Damon and Elena are okay before we – ."

"Before we leave, yeah, I remember," she snapped. "Have you been paying attention, Stefan? They _are _okay."

"No, they're not, and if _you _had been paying attention, you would have noticed," he insisted, shifting on the mattress and reaching for her hand. "I think you were right. I think Damon's letting his guilt drive a wedge between him and Elena."

"Why do you say that?" she retorted, raising a brow as she glared at him. "Because they aren't vomiting rainbows and unicorns over the joy of Elena living forever?" Without waiting for a response, Katherine jerked out of his grasp and began to pace. "They're grown-ups, Stefan," she bit out. "At least they're supposed to be. Let them figure out their own shit like everybody else."

"I can't do that," Stefan shook his head resolutely.

"You, of all people, should know that there's no quick fix," Katherine cried, throwing out her hands in desperation as she traveled the length of the room. "If Damon _is _feeling guilty, it's going to take time, Stefan, not some magical, brotherly bonding-."

"I know. You're right, but I have to do something," he said, wishing he had the words to explain it to her so that she'd understand. He reached for her again as she passed by the head of the bed, pulling her down to the mattress and snaking an arm around her waist. Holding her securely to his side, he took her chin between his thumb and forefinger and met her hostile gaze. "I promise I will make this up to you," he insisted, ignoring her derisive snort of protest as he leaned in and kissed her unyielding lips.

Keeping her eyes closed, Katherine held herself rigidly in his embrace as he patiently waited for her to respond. He figured his odds were evenly split between getting punched in the face while being told to go to hell and her softening to his entreaty.

Finally, she groaned, relaxing slightly in his arms as she opened her eyes and glared at him with markedly less murder in her gaze. "You're going to owe me a lifetime of servitude by the time we get out of here," she muttered as her arms found their way around his shoulders. Heaving a dramatic sigh, and throwing her head back in capitulation,she added. "And if we're going to do that any time this century we need to quit screwing around and come up with a plan."

Stefan smiled before kissing her again. _That's my girl._

* * *

Twisting a tumbler of bourbon in a circle on the paper placemat, Elena swallowed before glancing around the Mystic Grille. It looked exactly the same as it had when she'd been growing up, which at the moment, she found extremely comforting. It was easier to pretend that everything was normal in a place where everything _had been _normal.

"How's it going?" Damon asked, leaning closer and making her shiver as the whispered question set her nerve endings on fire. They'd been there for twenty minutes and thus far, Elena hadn't needed them to prevent her from attacking any of the other patrons. Granted, it was noon on a Tuesday during the school year, the Grille wasn't exactly the hot place to be.

"Okay," she murmured, turning her head to meet his gaze, her eyes automatically drawn to his lips. A flare of desire kicked up inside of her, warming her blood. He was so close. She could still feel his fevered kiss on her lips from the night before and she wanted more. All she had to do was lean just a little bit closer and -

"Who got the strawberry pecan salad?" the waitress asked, looking pleasant, but bored as she surveyed their table of three. Elena gasped, her body tensing as the heady scent of human blood and the rapid beating of a human heart in close proximity took her by surprise. Her eyes burned and her gums throbbed as she flattened her palms on the table top and tried to reign in the urge to feed, to _kill. _

A firm hand on her thigh distracted her, jerking her back from the edge. Damon's penetrating gaze pulled her back, reminding her to breathe and focus on other things – the sweet scent of the strawberries mixed with the tang of the vinaigrette, the conversation between two bankers regarding dividends three tables away…

His hand on her thigh and the way each, individual finger was pressing into her flesh through the fabric of her jeans in a different way.

His ridiculously blue eyes.

"The salad?" the waitress prompted, holding the plate in one hand as she balanced the tray with the rest of the food in the other.

"It's mine," Elena said quickly, a different kind of heat rushing through her body as she wondered how long she'd sat there like an idiot, struggling to get control of herself. The waitress was kind enough not to roll her eyes right out of her head as she served them their food and hurried on to her next table. Closing her eyes, Elena sighed. "I've got to be the worst vampire ever."

"I'm pretty sure Stefan already claimed that title," Damon quipped flashing the signature smirk she'd barely seen the past few days. Squeezing her thigh, he added. "You're doing fine."

"Absolutely," Caroline agreed, plucking a fry from Damon's plate and popping it into her mouth. "You're already doing better than any other vampire I know. I mean, it's been a week and you haven't killed a human yet."

"Seriously, Caroline?" Damon demanded, glaring at her.

"God, fine," she huffed. "You haven't killed a human. Period. End of sentence."

Biting her bottom lip to suppress a grin, Elena picked up her fork and took a small bite of her salad. She wasn't hungry, at least not for human food. Eating was strange - the flavors were all muted and the texture of the food seemed off somehow, duller around the edges. Her brain still told her to eat, but her body never craved it. Glancing out of the corner of her eye, she watched Damon attack his burger and wondered if her disinterest in human food was a newbie thing.

Deciding to ask, she washed down the bite of salad with a swallow of bourbon. "I have a question."

Suddenly, the front door of the Grille flew open, allowing a throng of at least a dozen humans to surge through the doorway. Immediately, Elena was assaulted by a colossal wave of sensation as the Mystic Falls High school football team claimed a handful of tables within fifteen feet of their booth. They were loud, boisterous and _alive_ - their blood pumping through their veins at an impressive rate as the mouthwatering, rich scent permeated the air.

Elena's fork slipped from her fingers, clattering to the table as she let out a throaty moan of desire.

"Elena," Damon cautioned, his hand once again on her thigh, but this time even the erotic sensation of his touch failed to penetrate the building haze of the bloodlust.

"Focus, Elena," Caroline whispered urgently, kicking her in the shin from under the table as her wide blue eyes darted between the football players and Damon.

Aching with frustration and need, Elena nearly bit through her lip in the effort it took to tear her gaze away from the tables. Staring at her food, she tried the familiar trick, focusing on the scents and sounds immediately surrounding her - strawberries and bourbon, Caroline's shampoo and Damon's cologne, the slow, steady beating of his heart, and the grip of his hand on her thigh.

"I'm okay," she choked out, as her eyes began to burn and her gums throbbed.

Caroline's lips pressed together in a thin, disapproving line. "Damon, we should get her out of here."

"I'm _fine,_" Elena insisted, glaring at her friend for discussing her like she wasn't even in the room.

Caroline rolled her eyes.

Damon leaned in close, his nose brushing her hair as he whispered for her ears alone. "You don't have anything to prove."

Turning her head slightly, Elena closed her eyes and raised a hand to gently caress his face. Pressing her fingertips lightly against his cheek, she focused every ounce of concentration she possessed on him. His heartbeat became her heartbeat, his steady breaths were her breaths as the bloodlust began to recede. She _did _have something to prove. She needed to prove that she was in control, that she could function in the human world without destroying it. Maybe that was the key. Maybe when she mastered the bloodlust Damon would come back to her and be her boyfriend again instead of some overly affectionate babysitter.

"I. Said. I'm. Fine," Elena insisted through clenched teeth. Drawing a deep breath, she picked up her fork and deliberately took a huge bite of her salad, chewing furiously as Caroline and Damon watched. Swallowing, she immediately took another and then another until eventually, they both relaxed enough to return to their meals.

Damon kept his hand on her thigh, however, rubbing his thumb absently along the outer seam of her jeans.

Elena tried to relax as well, but the food tasted like ash in her mouth and it was all she could do to choke it down as she worked hard to find flavor or scent or anything that would keep her mind off of the heady smell of blood. Gulping bourbon and then water between bites, she waited for the ravenous hunger to fade as each bite and drink landed like a rock in her stomach.

Ten agonizing minutes passed as Elena listened to the football players argue over drinks and appetizers. And studiously ignored them. _Just focus, _she thought, feeling the metal fork give slightly as she clutched it between her fingers hard enough to bend it. The sooner she learned to control the hunger, the sooner she could live a normal life.

The sooner she could get _her _life back.

Finishing the last bite of her salad, Elena washed it down with a gulp of water before leaning back against the booth. _This is what you wanted, _she reminded herself as she covered Damon's hand with her own and held her breath in an attempt to keep the scent of fresh blood at bay. She'd wanted to turn. This adjustment periodhad always been a part of the plan.

_But I didn't know it was going to be this hard. _

Four of the football players pushed away from the food-laden tables, walking right by Elena on their way to the pool tables. Seizing Damon's hand, she curled her fingers around his as each strong, healthy heartbeat rose up around her in surround sound. Sensation slammed into her like a physical blow, making her canines descend and her stomach heave in a mixture of stress and debilitating hunger.

Damon whispered at her urgently, but Elena couldn't make out the words over the roar of the blood rushing through the football players' veins. Between the group at the pool table and the ones still eating, she was surrounded.

She was drowning.

"I can't do this," she moaned, bringing a hand to her mouth as she lurched from the table. Utilizing her newfound speed, she blurred across the restaurant, pushing through the swinging doors that led to the kitchen. Bumping into waiters and cooks, she kept her head down as she opened the back door and plunged into the mercifully empty alley.

Colliding with the wall of the neighboring building, Elena cried out in pain and frustration. Her stomach lurched as she bent over, bracing her hands on her knees and sucking in deep breaths of air scented with the putrid odor of rotting garbage. Gagging, she felt scalding tears run down her cheeks as her body trembled.

The kitchen door flew open, slamming against the outer brick wall of the grill and causing Elena to gasp in a fresh wave of panic. If one of the cooks or waiters had followed her outside, she'd rip them apart. Her fragile control – if it had ever existed – was completely gone.

"Elena!"

Relief coursed through her as Damon's voice penetrated the blinding hunger. Forgetting the stupid pride that had brought her to this point, she turned to him, half-blinded by tears and bloodlust, and collapsed into his arms. He held her as she cried out her frustration and fear, murmuring the same comforting sentiments he'd offered her in the dead of night when he'd held her in their bed. He kissed the top of her head, smoothing her hair off of her face, as she clung desperately to the solid strength of him.

Eventually, her hysteria faded, along with the thirst, and Elena felt her fangs retract as the heat around her eyes receded. Pressing her cheek to his shoulder, she loosened her grip on his shirt and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. Drawing a shuddery breath, she said. "I guess I failed that lesson."

"I don't know," Damon replied. "You made it out of there without snacking on any quarterbacks, so I'd call it a win."

Pulling away, Elena shook her head. "I completely lost it, Damon," she insisted, wiping angrily at the tears staining her cheeks. "The football players were one thing, but even with the waitress, I-"

"Stop," he ordered, cupping her cheek and forcing her to look at him. "You didn't fail, Elena. You've only been at this for a week, give yourself a break."

_Nine days, _she protested weakly. "But I-."

"No buts," he insisted, taking over and gently wiping away her tears with his thumb. "There's no rule book. We've got forever to figure this out, okay?"

Closing her eyes, Elena nodded, leaning into his touch. "Okay."

"Good," Damon replied, dragging his thumb across her skin in a final caress before releasing her and stepping away.

The effect was jarring and immediate. The temperature seemed to drop ten degrees the instant Elena lost his touch. Opening her eyes, she stared at the scant foot of space between her and Damon as it grew into an insurmountable chasm.

* * *

_Elena paced nervously from one side of the landing to the other, the soft, silky folds of her long blue dress swirling around her ankles. The dress was the only thing about the entire Miss Mystic Falls farce that she actually liked. The royal blue color looked good on her._

Where are you, Stefan?_ she wondered, looking over the railing as she waited for her name to be called. She was worried – not about the inevitable public humiliation of having no one waiting for her at the bottom of the stairs, but about what her boyfriend's absence meant._

"Stefan's still drinking human blood."

_Bracing her hand on the railing, Elena closed her eyes and pressed a hand against her queasy stomach. This was bad. This was so very, very bad. Stefan was out of control. How was she supposed to dance and go through all of the stupid pomp and circumstance of the pageant with a smile while her boyfriend was struggling with some kind of…of…_

_Blood addiction?_

Is that what this is?_ Elena wondered, opening her eyes and leaning over the railing again to scan the crowd. Damon had certainly made it sound like an addiction – an uncontrollable compulsion that turned Stefan into a different person. _

_Into a monster. _

"_Miss Elena Gilbert, escorted by Mr. Stefan Salvatore."_

Oh, god.

_Pausing at the top of the stairs, Elena took a deep breath and forced a smile to her lips. During the past six months, she'd learned to pretend so well that it came to her easily now, like second nature. She'd get through this with dry eyes and her head held high, there would be no falling apart just because the only person who had made life worth living since her parents' death was currently losing his mind to O positive. _

_Elena would not fall apart just because she was all alone. _

_Her brittle smile cracked the second she came around the curve of the staircase and saw the empty spot at the bottom, confirming her worst fears. Stefan wasn't there. _

_He wasn't there. _

He's not coming.

Shit, what am I going to do?

_Looking out at the sea of expectant faces, Elena felt her lungs constrict with panic as her limbs went numb. She was going to fall flat on her face. She was going to be the girl everyone pitied again. The girl who'd lost her parents, the girl who's brother couldn't stay out of trouble, the girl who's boyfriend abandoned her in front of – _

Damon.

_Elena's eyes widened as she saw him standing at the bottom of the stairs, his mouth fixed into a determined line that made her limbs weak with relief. _

_She wasn't alone. Damon was there. _

_Only for a moment, only a dance, but it was one less thing that she had to worry about._

_One less thing that she had to face alone. _

"_Where's Stefan?" she whispered as she reached the bottom and took his hand. _

"_I don't know," he replied, escorting her toward the dance floor as if he'd done it a million times. She fell into step next to him with ease, despite her racing heart. Focusing straight ahead, Elena ignored Jenna and Alaric Saltzman as she and Damon passed them, but her aunt's incredulous gaze weighed heavily on her shoulders as she took her place in line. _

Boy, am I going to hear about this_,_ _Elena thought, eyeing Damon as she imagined the interrogation that awaited her after this was all over. _

"_What are we going to do?" she hissed as the music swelled and she curtsied, her body automatically moving through the first dance steps even as her pulse began to race._

"_Right now, we just have to get through this," he replied, bowing towards her. _

We_. We _have to get through this.

_Damon was with her. _

Right_,_ _Elena thought, taking a final bracing breath before lifting her chin and locking eyes with him. As she raised her right hand, she had a fleeting moment to wonder if he knew the steps before he proved that she had nothing to worry about._

Of course he knows this,_ she thought, her lips curving slightly as she mirrored him with both hands and they circled each other on the dance floor. She tried to picture him one hundred and fifty years ago at a party similar to this, dancing the same steps to similar music. _

_The picture was comforting._

_Stepping into Damon's arms, she suppressed a shiver as his hand touched her bare back and he began to lead her through the waltz. Taking control, he spun her in dizzying circles to the music. Her worries for Stefan slipped to the back of her mind as she got caught up in the dance, in his smooth fluidity, the confidence in the fingers lightly pressing her back, guiding her steps…_

_His incredibly blue eyes._

Damn, his eyes are really blue.

_The realization came out of nowhere, pushing all other thought out of her mind. She'd noticed before, of course. It was impossible to look at him and not notice his eyes. They were so…intense, penetrating._ _Elena knew it wasn't entirely_ right_ for her to find herself captivated by her boyfriend's brother's gaze, but she couldn't help it._

_There was just something about Damon Salvatore._

_Typically she found the way Damon seemed to look right through her nerve-wracking – like if she wasn't careful, he'd see inside to the deepest part of her and consume her whole. At the moment, however, she was grateful for it – grateful for the way it grounded her, body and mind, to the present moment just as securely as the hand pressing into her shoulder blade._

We're in this together_, she thought, keeping her eyes locked with his as the rest of the world whirled by her in a blur of brightly colored dresses and black tuxes. Damon's gaze was as confident and sure as his steps and Elena couldn't help but be affected by it. Over the past few weeks they'd become a team, a_ good _team – they'd joined forces to save Stefan once, they could do it again._

Everything's going to be okay,_ Elena thought. She hadn't the slightest idea how, but nevertheless, in that moment, Damon was there and she believed it. _

_Then…the music stopped and Damon stepped away. _

_Elena felt the loss acutely, like someone had come along and physically cut the tether of their connection. Fear and worry washed over her, making her pulse race for completely different reasons other than the dance. _

He's still here,_ Elena thought as Damon looked pointedly at her hand. Smiling awkwardly, she lifted her arm so that he could take hers and escort her off of the dance floor. His fingers closed around hers, sure and steady, but it wasn't the same._

_Whatever it was they'd shared on the dance floor was gone. _

* * *

Fighting the panic that wanted to pull her back under, Elena ran a hand through her disheveled hair and tugged on the hem of her shirt. She hadn't thought about the Miss Mystic Falls pageant in years, but now she couldn't get the comparison out of her mind. The dance she and Damon had shared epitomized the way their relationship had begun – surprising moments of connection that came and went with growing frequency until that summer when they'd come together in their quest to save Stefan and never come apart.

For three years they'd faced everything together – the good, bad and in between – and now when they should have been more in sync than ever, when she needed him the most, he was…

Pulling away.

Elena wanted to call him on it, but every time the impulse struck her, a little voice inside of her head reminded her that Damon had gone through his own hell while Landis had held her captive. He'd been forced to watch her die, to _believe _her dead. Her heart twisted painfully as she tried to imagine how she would have felt in his place. The very idea of a world without Damon, of having to exist without him, was unthinkable.

_It's only been a week, _she reminded herself, using the same logic Damon had used to soothe her impatience over her control of the bloodlust. _Give him time._

Using the cuff of her long-sleeved shirt, Elena wiped the remaining tears from her cheeks and cleared her throat. "So, what next?" she asked, bracing her hands on her hips and lifting her chin with determination. The bloodlust had dissipated, settling into a dull burn at the back of her throat as she and Damon lingered in the alley behind the Grille.

"How do you feel about a trip to the grocery store?" Caroline asked, staring at her phone as she pushed through the kitchen door. Flashing the screen at them, she smiled brightly, masking any disappointment or discouragement she might have felt over what had just happened.

_Over my failure. _Pushing the disheartening thought from her mind, Elena asked. "Grocery store?"

"Yeah, Ric sent me a list of things to pick up for the party," Caroline explained. Elena's heart constricted again, but for completely different reasons. Jeremy was leaving in the morning, returning to his sophomore year of college in Colorado, and they were all getting together that night at the Gilbert house to see him off. Elena desperately wanted him to stay in town – knew he'd stay if she asked – but he needed to get back to school and his life just like Bonnie had.

Elena had no right to disrupt the life Jeremy had built for himself just because hers was falling apart.

"We don't have to," Caroline said quickly, her gaze darting between Damon and Elena. "I mean, you-you're probably tired after -."

"I can handle it," Elena interrupted, looking to Damon automatically to see if he'd disagree. She needed to do this, to keep working on her control – not only would it keep her mind off of the distance between her and Damon, but, the sooner she got control, the sooner she could focus on making things right between the two of them.

Damon held her gaze for a long moment, his eyes narrowing slightly as he seemed to assess her resolve. Elena waited, holding her breath until he nodded. "Let's go."

Grateful, she smiled at him, falling into step beside him as Caroline led the way out of the alley and around the building to the parking lot. _He's with me,_ she thought with determination, just like the day of the Miss Mystic Falls pageant. Broken connection or not, Damon hadn't left her hanging four years ago and he wouldn't do it now.

_Stay with me, Damon, _she thought, feeling his hand brush against her lower back for a brief moment as they approached the car. _Please, stay with me._

* * *

_Thanks so much for reading and replying! I'm still working through a backlog of feedback, so expect to get a PM or two (or in some cases three) from me!_


	20. Abort, Fail, Retry, Terminate

_AN: As always, all the awards to my beta for being generally awesome. _

_Poor Damon and Elena...sometimes you just have to let the tension build until explodes in spectacular fashion. _

_In the meantime, god bless Katherine and flashbacks for comic relief. ;p_

Chapter Twenty – Abort, Fail, Retry, Terminate

Sipping on a late afternoon snack, Stefan stared through the kitchen window, contemplating the best way to help Damon and Elena. He wasn't an idiot. He knew that a direct approach would have less than zero chance of success – especially with his brother – but he couldn't wait around and hope that a solution would present itself.

Katherine wasn't that patient.

He knew he'd only temporarily placated her that morning and that if he didn't start making some progress, she'd take matters into her own hands…and then things would get messy.

When an impatient Katherine got involved…it usually led to bloodshed.

Stefan had no doubt that his girlfriend's results-oriented approach would get the job done, he just wasn't so sure that his brother would appreciate the interference – or survive it.

The kitchen door swung open, pulling his attention away from the window and onto the startled features of his ex. Elena blinked at him, her mouth falling open into a little O of surprise before she shut it again with an audible click. Nervously, she shifted the blood bag from her left hand to her right, eyeing the glass of blood in Stefan's grasp with barely contained hunger.

Obviously, she'd been expecting to eat alone.

"Hey, Stefan," she said, masking the faint tremor in her voice with a smile as she crossed the kitchen to the cupboard where the glasses were kept.

"Hey," he replied with a nod as she busied herself with preparing her meal. Her hands shook slightly as she put the glass into the microwave and pressed a few buttons to warm it up. Stefan wasn't sure if it was from nerves or hunger.

Probably both.

He remembered the awkwardness of feeding in front of others as a new vampire – or in his case, after Lexi had helped him stifle the Ripper for the first time. Drinking blood wasn't the same as eating a meal of human food. Blood did more than satisfy the hunger – it ignited the body, setting it on fire in an erotic explosion of heightened senses. Elena had always been so in control, so certain of who she was, that he could only imagine how hard it was for her to feel so…unhinged.

Then again, maybe it was the idea of doing something that felt so intimate in front of an ex-boyfriend.

"Looks like we had the same idea," Stefan said gesturing with his glass and trying to put her at ease.

"What?" she asked, tearing her gaze away from the microwave as the rich scent of blood permeated the air. Her wide eyes landed on his glass of blood and she relaxed a little. "Oh. Right. Yeah, I um…I figured it might be a good idea to, um, _eat _before I go."

"Go?"

"To Jeremy's party," Elena said, reminding him of the gathering that was taking place that evening at the Gilbert house. The human boy was leaving the next morning, catching a plane and heading back to his sophomore year at school in Colorado. Despite her outward appearance, the melancholy look in her eye gave her away. Elena wasn't ready to see her brother go.

"That's right," he said softly, sipping the warm blood and savoring the rich, thick liquid as it coated his throat. The microwave dinged, signaling that it was finally done and Elena nearly wrenched the door off its hinges in her haste, snatching the glass from the revolving tray with little care for singed fingers. She downed half of the blood in less than five seconds and probably would have finished it if she hadn't opened her eyes and caught him watching.

Sheepishly – and with great effort – she lowered the glass to the counter and licked her lips. Not wanting her to feel bad, Stefan knocked back the last half of his blood, gulping it down in a single swallow. Turning his back on her, he went to the sink to rinse the glass. "Are you worried?"

"No," she replied after a moment, her voice thick with the blood he was sure she'd finished the minute he'd looked away. A second later, she joined him at the sink and rinsed out her glass as well. "Alaric and Jeremy will be the only…humans there. I'll be fine, but…"

"Better safe than sorry," Stefan supplied, with an approving nod as she took both of their glasses and put them in the dishwasher. "That's smart."

"Yeah, well…" Elena sighed, averting her gaze as he followed her out of the kitchen and into the foyer. "The sooner I figure out how to control the bloodlust the sooner…_things_ can get back to normal."

"What kind of things?" Stefan asked, seizing upon her emphasis of the word and the opportunity it presented to fish for more information. Fidgeting, Elena dropped her gaze to the floor before glancing around the entryway in silence, prompting him to ask. "Elena? Is something…not going well?"

"No, everything's fine," she replied quickly, tucking her hair behind her ear. "Caroline and Damon are doing great, I think. I mean, I haven't killed anybody yet, so that has to mean they're doing something right."

"Not killing anybody is a plus," Stefan agreed, as a sound at the top of the stairs drew her gaze, preventing him from pressing for more details. He watched as a myriad of emotions played out over her unguarded features – love, relief, wariness, desire – and knew without looking that Damon had finally decided to make an appearance.

"Are you ready to go?" Elena asked as his brother joined them at the foot of the stairs, raising her hand as if to touch his arm before letting it fall awkwardly back to her side.

"Yup," Damon replied, missing the look of distress that flashed across Elena's face as he busied himself with rolling up the long sleeves of his dark blue button-down.

"You know, you could come, too," Elena said, turning to Stefan with a smile that didn't reach her eyes. Glancing toward the second floor, she took a breath and added. "You and…Katherine."

Damon snorted.

Chuckling, Stefan shook his head. "Thanks, but I think we'll pass on this one," he replied, heading up the stairs. Pausing on the landing between the floors, he added. "Tell Jeremy I said goodbye."

Elena nodded, falling into step beside Damon as Stefan watched from his place on the landing. His brother opened the front door for Elena, his hand briefly hovering at the small of her back before he closed it into a fist and dropped it back to his side. The unnaturally heavy silence between them practically echoed in the foyer as Damon let the door swing shut naturally. Stefan sighed.

_Shit, _he thought. _I guess that's the thing._

* * *

_Shaky with guilt and uncertainty over his newfound desire to live, Stefan let Elena lead him into the house. He knew that Damon was there, feeling his larger-than-life presence before laying eyes on him._

"_Little Boy Lost," his brother said with his usual condescension, glancing up from his study of a silver pocket watch. Stuffing his free hand into his pocket, Stefan nodded and willingly took the thinly veiled abuse. He was prepared to take more. _

_He deserved more._

"_I'll be upstairs, okay?" Elena said, squeezing his arm as she looked deeply into his eyes for confirmation that he'd soon join her. _

"_Okay," he replied, making a promise with that simple word. He still couldn't believe that he'd found her, that she could love him despite the monster that lurked beneath his human exterior._

"_Good night, Damon," she added, his brother offering her a tight-lipped smile in return that didn't quite reach his eyes. She turned away without a backwards glance, holding onto his fingers until the last possible second before disappearing deeper into the house._

_Focusing on his brother, Stefan swallowed his pride and slowly advanced into the living room. Damon had helped Elena save his life. After everything – all of the animosity, distrust and outright hostility that Stefan had thrown at him since he'd arrived in town – Damon had still helped him. "Thank you," he said, hoping that the two inadequate words conveyed the gratitude that he truly felt. _

"_No, Stefan, thank you," Damon replied, abandoning the pocket watch in favor of his ever-present glass of alcohol. Sitting heavily on the couch, Stefan let his brother's mockery and bitterness wash over him, a small price to pay for helping him get clean. "You're back on Bambi blood, and I'm the big, badass brother again. All is right in the world."_

"_I mean it," Stefan replied, refusing to allow Damon's attitude to cheapen the moment. "Thank you," he repeated, warmed by the knowledge that underneath it all, his brother still cared about him. If Damon's only concern had been keeping the Council off of his back, he could have staked Stefan and been done with it. Somewhere beneath the layers of hatred and grief, the older brother he'd looked up to and loved, still existed. "For…helping her take care of me."_

"_You brood too much," Damon snapped out in response, his eyes flashing in the glow of the flames and catching Stefan off guard. "Everything on the planet is not your fault. My actions, what I do, it's not your fault. I own them. They belong to me. You're not allowed to feel my guilt."_

"_Do you feel guilt?" Stefan asked, masking his surprise over his brother's __sudden __outburst and stifling the flare of hope that warmed his heart. If Damon recognized guilt,_ felt_it, maybe they still had a chance – a chance to coexist peaceably, like brothers._

_Like…family._

_Damon looked away, irritated and uncomfortable at the same time. "If I wanted to, it's there," he admitted, gazing into the flames and taking a drink._

_The usual disappointment cut through Stefan even as he nodded in acceptance of Damon's blunt answer, t__he brief flash of caring, of_ humanity_, d__isappearing as quickly as it had risen. Damon, the brother whom he'd welcomed back from the war was gone, in his place, the stranger that he'd become after Katherine Pierce had entered their lives. _

_Lost in thought, he responded automatically to Damon's cutting remarks about Katherine and the impact that her non-choice had had on both of their lives. He absorbed Damon's anger and bitterness, filing it away as he watched his brother leave the room, his parting shot —"It was supposed to be just me Stefan. Just me."— echoing in the still air. _

_For a long moment, Stefan stood in the middle of the living room, staring into the flames and fighting the urge to blur out of the front door and glut himself on the first human he found. What had he been thinking? Damon's anger hadn't ebbed in the slightest. He truly had helped Elena save him simply to keep the Council off of his back. The wedge that Katherine had driven between them was lodged, deep as ever, into Damon's heart. Stefan had no idea how to break through that kind of rage and bitter, bitter disappointment. _

"If I wanted to, it's there."

_Suddenly, a spark of hope flared in Stefan's chest. _

_Guilt._

_Dragging a hand over his face, Stefan settled into one of the chairs, burying the desire to feed by focusing on the glimmer of humanity Damon had unwittingly allowed him to see. He'd admitted that he could feel guilt. Only a few months ago, Damon would have sworn that he had no knowledge of the concept, that he was immune to the soul-crushing ravages of remorse for past actions that could never be changed. Briefly, Stefan considered the small glimpses of humanity that Damon had displayed in the past few months. Compelling Jeremy to forget the pain of Vicki's horrific and aborted transition, saving Elena the night she'd crashed her car on the road. _

_Rescuing _him_ from the tomb vampires. _

_Stefan smiled as the hope blossomed in his chest. _

_Damon felt – whether it be compassion, the spark of brotherly love or guilt – he_ felt…something. It didn't always impact his actions and he was able to ignore it with very little effort, but it was there.

And it was something.

_With the right push…_

_Maybe there was hope for his brother yet._

* * *

…_and now he was drowning in it._

Shaking his head, Stefan blurred up the staircase and into his room. With the aid of hindsight, he'd come to realize that Damon's humanity switch hadn't been firmly lodged in the off position when he'd arrived in Mystic Falls four years ago. Truth be told, Stefan had long since given up on the idea that the switch even existed at all. It was a myth, an old vampire's tale that someone had spun in an attempt to ease a guilty conscience.

And it was that guilty conscience that was at the root of the discord between Damon and Elena. Damon's guilt was suffocating him and in true fashion, his brother was doing his best to punish himself by destroying everything good in his life, including his relationship with the one person who'd always managed to ground him in his humanity.

Elena was strong and Stefan knew from personal experience that when at her best, her love could pull one through the lowest and most desperate time of their life – but she wasn't at her best. She was a new vampire, drowning in her own sea of unwieldy emotions, desires, confusion and doubt. She needed Damon to be there for her, to guide her through the transition in _every _way, not just simply help her fight her cravings while simultaneously pushing her away.

_Goddammit, _Stefan thought, sinking to the edge of his bed. Katherine had been right and if Damon wasn't careful, his guilt was going to do more than destroy his relationship – it was going to destroy Elena as well.

* * *

Holding a glass of whiskey in one hand, Alaric grabbed a tortilla chip and scooped up a bite of salsa as he surveyed the gathering in the Gilbert kitchen and living room. Jeremy had gone up into the attic and dragged out one of his old video game consoles and was currently challenging Tyler to an old school game of Grand Theft Auto. Caroline and Elena were whispering like a couple of high school girls, so completely human in attitude and appearance that Alaric had to remind himself that the silver ring on Elena's left middle finger was more than a fashion statement. Damon was being…_Damon. _Lingering near the alcohol and nursing a glass of bourbon, his gaze never strayed far from Elena.

It all looked perfectly normal.

The underlying tension between Damon and Elena, however, was entirely…_not_.

There had been countless times when the group of unlikely allies, moved by an unspoken desire to maintain the camaraderie they'd established during a full year of fighting for their lives, had ended up in the Gilbert house just like this. The scene could have been plucked directly from his memories of Elena's senior year.

Everything may have looked normal…

But it _felt _completely different.

* * *

_Fighting with the strap of his watch, Alaric rushed out of his room, bounding down the stairs on his way to the kitchen._ Why the hell did I agree to teach summer school? _he wondered as he pictured the stack of papers sitting on the desk in his classroom. Half of the appeal of being a teacher had been the idea of having summers off and yet he'd gone and volunteered to spend June and July cooped up inside._

_Grading papers._

I am an idiot.

_At the bottom of the stairs, he automatically veered toward the kitchen, intent on grabbing something to eat before beginning his evening of wading through grammatically – and most likely factually – incorrect essays about the war of 1812. _

"_You can't be serious," Damon declared as Alaric entered the kitchen. Standing on one side of the island in the middle of the room, the vampire didn't even spare him a glance, keeping his incredulous gaze focused squarely on Elena. _

"_I can and I am," Elena replied primly, lifting her chin as she faced down her boyfriend from the other side of the island. "We're both invited and I want you to come with me." _

_Alaric raised a brow._ Speaking of wars…

"_To Bonnie's birthday party," Damon said, shaking his head in disbelief as Alaric groaned internally. He'd forgotten about the party. "The same Bonnie who just tried to get you to – what was it? – 'not settle' for a __no-good, blood-drinking, sorority girl-killing, werewolf-stabbing__,__evil__ vampire like me." _

"_You are such a drama queen," Elena retorted, rolling her eyes. "That was over a month ago and she apologized."_

_Damon scoffed. "Not to me."_

"_Well, maybe if you were willing to share the same city block with her, she'd have an opportunity to do so," Elena snapped, crossing her arms and glaring at him. _

_Damon snorted. "Bonnie wouldn't be able to apologize to me if I were standing in her face. She'd be too busy mumbling witchy spells and gesturing wildly like a crazy person."_

"_Am I interrupting something?" Alaric asked, heading for the cupboard next to the microwave and rummaging around for a bowl._

"_Ric's been invited, too," Elena said, ignoring his greeting in favor of throwing that tidbit of information triumphantly in Damon's face. "Ric will be there."_

"_Ric has papers to grade for the poor bastards stuck in summer school," the retired vampire hunter clarified, moving on to the cupboard next to the sink and retrieving a box of cereal. _

_Glancing at the digital clock on the microwave, Damon raised a brow. "Four o'clock's a little late in the day for breakfast, don't you think?"_

_Alaric laughed. "You're going to comment on _my_eating habits?" he asked, grabbing a spoon and splashing some milk in the bowl before taking a large bite __and chewing defiantly at Damon's baleful expression__. _

"_You eat like you're still in grade school."_

"_Look, Emeril," Alaric shrugged, leaning against the counter and taking another, deliberately large bite, before continuing with his mouth full. "You don't like it, start cooking for me." Before Damon could formulate a retort, Alaric swallowed and addressed Elena. "Sorry, but I've got to get those papers graded."_

"_You're not coming at all?" she asked, crestfallen._

"_No, I'll be there," Alaric assured her before taking another bite of his cereal. "But I'm going to be late."_

"_That's okay," she replied, smiling once again__ before turning triumphantly toward her boyfriend__. "See, Ric_ will _be there." _

"_Elena, that doesn't change anything," Damon argued. "Bonnie doesn't want me there."_

"_Yes, she does," Elena insisted, throwing up her hands in frustration. _

"_What part of 'you don't have to settle' is lost on you?" Damon demanded, slowly advancing on Elena. Alaric continued to eat his cereal as he enjoyed the show. Damon and Elena considered this a minor disagreement. Jeremy would have called it a fight. Alaric liked to refer to it as dinner theater. _

_Judging by the scathing looks Elena was throwing at Damon, he'd come in during act two. _

"_Bonnie hates vampires," Damon said, enunciating each word carefully, as if miscommunication was the real problem at the heart of the…_disagreement_. __Placing a hand on his chest, he continued. "_I _am a vampire – and most likely the main reason she hates vampires." _

"_But she invited you!"_

"_It's probably a trap so she can brain whammy me to death," he retorted. _

"_Ric," Elena whined, looking to the man and gesturing helplessly in Damon's direction. "A little help, please?"_

"_Damon, you should go," Alaric replied immediately, his attention focused on his cereal as he pointedly ignored Damon's mutinous glare. "Bonnie's not going to kill you at her birthday party. It'd be a hell of a mess."_

"_She'd just Mary Poppins my remains away." Damon replied scathingly._

"_Oh, my god! Damon! Seriously?!" Elena cried indignantly._

"_Just a spoon full of fucking sugar, Elena…"_

_Completely oblivious to the mounting tension between the vampire and his girlfriend, Jeremy entered the kitchen, making a beeline for the fridge without sparing any of them a glance. Suppressing a chuckle, Alaric shook his head as Damon seized upon the boy's entrance with the same enthusiasm that Elena had bestowed upon him. "Jeremy will be there," the vampire said. "You don't need me, Elena."_

"_I'll be where?" Jeremy asked, holding the refrigerator door open as he stared at them blankly. _

"_No, Jeremy won't be there," Elena replied, shooting a disapproving glance at her brother. "He wasn't invited."_

"_Oh," the younger man said, returning to his pillaging of the contents in the fridge. _"There."

That's right, _Alaric thought as he remembered the abrupt demise of Jeremy and Bonnie's relationship a few months prior. Jeremy's eye into the ghost world hadn't closed and while Vicki had moved on to whatever it was ghosts on the other side moved on to, Anna had stuck around, causing insurmountable problems for the boy and his witch. _

_Groaning in disgust, Damon asked. "How do you cheat on someone with a ghost?"_

_Jeremy started, emerging from the fridge with a can of soda in his hand and a guilty expression on his face. Swallowing, he said. "I, um-."_

"_Stop trying to change the subject," Elena interrupted._

"_I'm not," Damon protested. "There's just nothing more to say. Bonnie only invited me to make you happy. She hates me."_

_Elena groaned. "She doesn't hate you-."_

"_Actually," Jeremy interrupted, falling silent as his sister sent him a murderous look. _

"_Jeremy, don't you dare try to help him," Elena warned, advancing on her brother as he backed into the closed fridge. _

"_Let him speak," Damon said with a grin as he slipped around the island and wrapped his arms around Elena from behind. Struggling half-heartedly against his grasp, Damon held onto her easily. "Actually, what, Jeremy?"_

"_Jeremy, I swear-," Elena's threat was muffled as Damon covered her mouth with his hand. _

"_Go on," he said, nodding at the younger man in encouragement as Elena shrieked her indignation into his palm. "Don't worry, I won't let her hurt you." _

"_I live with a bunch of children," Alaric mused, calmly eating his cereal as Jeremy let out a burst of laughter. Taking his time now that Elena had been forcibly subdued, he popped the top on the can of soda and took a long drink. Damon waited patiently as Elena dug her elbows ineffectually into his side. _

"_Well, obviously it's been awhile since Bonnie and I have really talked, but I don't think much has changed in the past few months," Jeremy began, drawing out the suspense as both Damon and Elena hung on his every word. What he said next would decide the winner of the round. Taking another sip of his soda, Jeremy shrugged. "She does kind of hate you, Damon. She probably only invited you to make Elena happy." _

_Smirking in triumph, Damon stepped back and released Elena. "Thanks, Jer," he said smugly as she punched her brother on the arm before turning around to scowl at him. Raising his brows, he shrugged imperiously. "You heard him. Mad Madam Mim hates me and I am not going to go to a party where I am not wanted." _

_Elena glared at him for a few more moments before shaking her head and stomping out of the kitchen. Finishing his cereal, Alaric kept an eye on Damon as he rinsed the bowl in the sink and put it into the dishwasher. The sounds of Elena's heavy footfalls on the staircase echoed throughout the kitchen as she made her way to the bedroom and slammed the door. _

_Crossing his arms, Alaric leaned against the counter and eyed his friend. "So, you're going to the party?"_

"_He will if he ever wants to get laid again," Jeremy said with a chuckle before Damon could respond. _

"_Cute, Gilbert," the vampire muttered as he began backing out of the kitchen. Addressing Alaric, he added. "Yeah, of course I'm going," before following his girlfriend up the stairs._

_Jeremy looked at Alaric in confusion as Damon's footfalls carried from the staircase. "Am I missing something? Why is Damon going to Bonnie's party?"_

"_The same reason he does everything," Alaric replied, nudging the younger man out of the way so that he could open the fridge and retrieve a bottle of water. He let the heavy door swing shut as he raised his brows. It's Elena." He grinned as Jeremy blinked at him in sudden understanding. "I'll see you later." _

_Grabbing his keys off of the hook by the door, Alaric glanced toward the second floor. The door to Elena's room was closed, but Damon wasn't standing outside of it, begging for forgiveness, so he assumed that they'd already smoothed things over. Jeremy's big reveal that Bonnie did, in fact, kind of hate Damon had been better than an engraved invitation. He'd go to that party and spend the entire evening taking every opportunity to drive the witch insane. _

_Of course, there was another reason that Damon was going to that party. It was the same unspoken, but commonly understood knowledge that fueled every one of his actions. _

_Damon was in love with Elena and he'd do just about anything to see her smile._

* * *

_My, how the times have changed, _Alaric thought, setting his empty glass on the counter next to the bottles of alcohol. The love was still there – Alaric doubted it would ever fade – but the tension radiating off of his friend was palpable and a sharp contrast to the last time they'd all been gathered together as a family. Sidling up to the pensive vampire and pretending to consider his options as he eyed Damon from his peripheral vision, Alaric asked. "How's it going?"

"Fantastic, Ric," the vampire replied in clipped tones as he took a sip of his drink.

Glancing over his shoulder, Alaric watched Elena and Caroline for a moment. "Elena looks like she's doing well," he observed, genuinely relieved by the truth in that statement.

"She is," Damon agreed, the muscle in his jaw ticking as he swirled the bourbon around in his glass.

Closing his eyes briefly, Alaric sighed and grabbed a bottle of whiskey at random, suddenly more concerned with quantity over quality. He'd been right…and wrong.

Things weren't just different, they were _bad. _

"What's wrong, Damon?" he asked quietly, turning around and leaning against the counter next to him.

"Nothing," the vampire replied immediately. "Not a goddamn thing." Finishing his drink, he quickly poured himself another one, still refusing to meet Alaric's gaze. Taking a gulp of bourbon, Damon shook his head. "What could possibly be wrong, Ric? The bad guy's dead and I got the girl back. Sure, she only had to die to make it happen, but hey…that was part of the plan, right, so no need to feel bad about it."

Turning his back on Alaric, Damon stalked out of the room, muttering just loud enough for the teacher to hear him. "Everything's coming up fucking roses."

Elena's grip on her drink tightened as she watched Damon stalk out of the kitchen and disappear into the front parlor. She could tell by the set of his shoulders and the tension radiating off of him in waves that he was pissed. Glancing at Alaric, she kicked herself for not listening in on their conversation. She'd been quietly practicing tuning into and out of conversations all evening and she'd apparently wasted a perfectly good opportunity to discover what was bothering her boyfriend on an argument between Tyler and Jeremy over gaming systems.

_Shit. _

"Elena, are you even listening to me?" Caroline demanded indignantly. Wincing guiltily, Elena turned her attention back to her best friend. The blonde vampire stared at her, one skeptic eyebrow raised so high that it nearly disappeared into her hairline.

"I…I'm sorry, Care," Elena replied sheepishly. "I've…got a lot on my mind."

"Must be a day ending in 'y'," the blonde muttered, heaving a sigh as she set her drink on the counter and braced her hands on her hips. "So what is it? Spill. Are you worried about what happened at the Grille today?"

Elena tensed, shooting a glance at Alaric. Caroline wasn't shouting, but ever since she'd turned, Elena had become acutely aware of how voices carried. She knew it was silly, but she couldn't help feeling that if _she _could hear someone's conversation on the other side of a crowded restaurant, they could hear hers as well.

"Because you shouldn't be," Caroline continued. "What happened was totally normal and you handled it really well."

"Thanks," Elena replied awkwardly, taking a healthy drink of her bourbon and relishing the burn as it slid down her throat. "That's not what I was thinking about, though."

"Then what-."

"Can we not talk about it here?" she asked, looking pointedly at Alaric as he joined Tyler and Jeremy by the couch. Following her gaze, Caroline made a soft sound of understanding before turning back to Elena and grabbing her wrist.

"No problem."

Drink in hand, Elena sighed, allowing herself to be led out of the kitchen and into the hallway. She should have been more specific. Kitchen, living room, spaceship on Mars – it didn't matter _where_ Caroline dragged her, Elena didn't want to tell her friend what was bothering her at all. If Caroline knew, Elena would have to face it and she was terrified of the truth – that there was more than just distance between her and Damon.

That she and Damon might be broken.

Pulling her up the stairs to the second floor, Caroline led her at a pace that fell somewhere between human speed and vampire. Cresting the landing, the blonde headed directly toward Elena's old bedroom, closing the door behind them after they'd made it inside.

"Okay, we're alone," Caroline announced needlessly, heading to the bed and settling down on the worn comforter. Leaning back on her hands, she gazed at Elena expectantly.

Anxiety twisted in Elena's stomach, making her feel a little sick as she made her way across the familiar cream carpeting to stand before her vanity mirror. Gazing at her reflection, she tried to see the vampire beneath the human exterior.

She couldn't.

_Could Damon? _she wondered, not for the first time. Was all of the distance between them a result of her turning? The anxiety hit her harder, making her nauseas. If that was the case, she was screwed.

"Elena," Caroline huffed, interrupting the flow of Elena's inner turmoil. "Come _on. _I'm not being nosy, I'm trying to help you. I can't help you if I you don't tell me what's wrong."

Placing the glass of bourbon on her vanity, Elena took a bracing breath and turned around. Crossing her arms over her chest, she looked out of the window. "Have you talked to Damon? When I'm not around, I mean?"

"Yes," Caroline replied immediately, surprising the hell out of Elena. A 'no' would have been an outright lie, but she hadn't expected her best friend to be so immediately forthcoming. Caroline shrugged at her incredulous expression. "What? We've talked. We talk about you and what we can do to help you through the transition. I didn't think it was a secret."

"It's…not," Elena assured her, feeling foolish all of a sudden. Maybe she was making the whole thing up. Caroline had talked to Damon, spent as much time with him in the past week and a half as Elena had and she hadn't seemed to notice anything wrong. Maybe she was being overly-sensitive and paranoid.

Her gaze focused on the window seat, recalling the number of times she'd walked into her bedroom and found Damon sitting there unexpectedly. Over time her reaction had changed from one of surprise and apprehension to wary acceptance to giddy anticipation. She tried to imagine the Damon who'd barely spent more than a collective hour alone with her in the past week randomly showing up on her window seat.

She couldn't.

"Something is wrong," Elena said, leaving no room for argument. "With Damon."

"What do you mean?" Caroline asked with a frown.

"He's not…himself," she replied, trying to put the collection of impressions and sensations into words. "He's not himself with me. Something's changed. There's this…distance between us."

"He practically had you in his lap at the Grille today," Caroline pointed out.

Elena sighed, rubbing her forehead. Apparently vampirism didn't prevent stress headaches. "That's because he was…I don't know, because you two were helping me."

"Elena, I don't understand."

"In public, Damon is fine," she explained. _Mostly fine, anyway. _The distance between them was there regardless of where they were. "He's amazing. It's at home, when no one else is around, that it all changes."

"Changes how?"

"Maybe changes it the wrong word," Elena amended, moving to Caroline's side and sitting beside her on the mattress. Tears burned at her eyes and her heart constricted painfully as she tried to explain Damon's distance when they were at home and there weren't any humans around for her to rip apart. "He disappears into that house. I only see him when we're getting ready to leave or when I wake up screaming from the nightmares in the middle of the night. He's like a goddamn ghost in his own home."

_And I miss him, _she thought as a deep longing cut through her with breathtaking intensity. _I miss him so much._

Caroline's brow had creased in concern at the mention of the nightmares, but she let the topic slide. "Wait, so he's like…hiding from you?"

Elena shrugged miserably. "I don't know. Maybe."

"Okay, but you said he was there in the middle of the night, so you're like…_together _there, right?" she asked, searching Elena's face for confirmation.

Elena snorted. "He doesn't come to bed until after I'm asleep," she explained. Learning control was an exhausting process and no matter how hard she tried to stay awake, she always failed. "When I wake up in the morning, he's gone. There's a glass of blood waiting for me by the bed, but that's it."

"So…hold on," Caroline demanded, twisting on the bed to face Elena fully. "Are you trying to tell me that the two of you haven't…that you're not…"

"Nope," Elena replied, feeling her cheeks burn with embarrassment. Just thinking about the fact that she and Damon hadn't been…_intimate_… since before she'd been kidnapped threw her libido into overdrive. "Not since before."

"Holy shit," Caroline breathed, looking off into the middle distance over Elena's shoulder. "You're right, something _is _wrong with Damon."

_Apparently, I should have led with the sex thing, _Elena thought, rolling her eyes. Sex was important, but it wasn't the only thing that mattered. If Damon were with her_, really _with her like he'd been before, she wouldn't have cared so much about the lack of sexual intimacy. She'd been through a lot, _he'd _been through a lot, and sex wouldn't bridge the chasm between them because it wasn't the real problem. The heat that had sparked between them at the Grille that afternoon proved that.

"Have you tried, you know, initiating anything?" Caroline asked, as Elena rose from the bed and began wearing a rut in the carpet as she paced.

Elena shook her head. She'd wanted to, more than once she'd even devised a plan and tracked Damon down in the house, determined to have her way with him. The minute she'd found him, however, and had had the opportunity to watch him unobserved, her plans had shriveled up and died in a wash of pain and heartbreaking sorrow. "It's not about sex, Care."

"Do you want me to talk to him?"

"God, no," Elena said, shuddering at the prospect of Caroline harassing Damon about his sex life.

"Then what should I-."

"I don't know," she said as a swell of panic swept through her. A part of her had hoped that explaining things to her best friend would help, but nothing had changed. Elena felt as desperate and adrift as she had before she'd spilled her guts. "I just-."

A soft knock sounded on the door, making her whirl around as it opened and Damon poked his head into the room. "Am I interrupting anything?"

Elena shook her head. He was being polite.

She _hated _it when he was polite.

"I'm heading out," he said, holding the keys to Stefan's rental car as he hovered in the doorway, his gaze locking with hers. "Stay as long as you want."

Elena's eyes went wide with panic. "Wait, what-."

"I think Tyler and I are going to go, too," Caroline said abruptly, rising from the bed and brushing by Elena on her way toward the door.

"You're _both _leaving me?" Elena demanded, a new, sharper fear shoving her concerns about her relationship aside and making her blood run cold. She'd been alone in a room with Jeremy and Alaric, but she'd never been _alone _alone. Rushing toward Damon, she reached for his hand. "Damon, you can't leave. What if something happens? What if-."

"Nothing is going to happen, Elena," he insisted, squeezing her fingers. "You're going to be fine."

"But-."

"No buts," he insisted, pressing the keys into her palm. His blue eyes were clear as he held her in his gaze, momentarily free from all of their combined baggage, and it was one of the most beautiful things she'd ever seen. "You're ready for this," he continued as a smirk curved his lips. "Besides, Ric's a hunter."

"Yeah, he can always vervaine you if you get out of hand," Caroline added, with a wink.

Helplessly, Elena glared at both of them. "I hate you both so very much right now."

Caroline laughed as she headed toward the stairs. After two steps she paused and turned around. "I almost forgot," she cried, excitement brightening her smile to mega-watt proportions. "The Founder's Party is this Saturday and you're going to help me."

Elena shrugged. "Yeah, okay, I can help you set up-."

"Oh no," Caroline shook her head, making her wavy, blonde hair dance animatedly at her shoulders. "You're helping me host."

"Host?" Elena repeated, feeling like she'd been sucker-punched and had the rug pulled out from under her at the same time. The Founder's Party was huge. The entire town was invited to the festivities and the swarms of people in attendance would be thick.

Overwhelming.

"I can't," Elena cried, shaking her head frantically as her mouth went dry at the prospect of being surrounded by so many tantalizing human throats. "I'm not ready."

"Yes, you are," Caroline argued. "Damon?"

"Damon?" Elena said at the same time, turning to her boyfriend for moral support. Their hands were still linked, her skin warm where it touched his. "Tell Caroline she's insane."

"Of course she's insane," Damon readily agreed, making Elena weak with relief. "But not about this."

"What?" Elena's stomach flipped. "How can you…Did I just imagine you being at the Grille today? I don't think I did. In fact, I know I didn't. I know you saw me nearly devour the entire high school football team. Damon, how can you think that I'm ready-."

"Shhhh," he insisted, taking her face between his hands and silencing her with the soft brush of his thumbs over her cheeks. "Elena, it will be okay. You're doing so much better than you realize."

She swallowed. "Really?"

"Yes," he said definitively. "And it's not for five days, so you've still got time to ease into it, okay?"

It wasn't okay. Not by a long shot, but Elena didn't want to argue with him and ruin the moment. Damon was _with her, _the chasm between them bridged, at least for the time being. Nodding, she lifted her free hand to cover one of his, letting her fingers curl around his forearm and glide up his wrist. His lashes fluttered as his gaze fell to the place they were connected. Forgetting about Caroline, Elena held her breath and prayed that he'd never pull away.

_Let's just stay like this, _she thought, tightening her grip slightly. _Forever. _

Apparently, Damon had other plans. Taking a sharp breath, he straightened to his full height and pulled away, robbing her of the grounding contact so quickly that she ached from the loss. The bridge was gone and the chasm yawned between them, as deep and foreboding as ever.

"Spend some time with Jeremy and Ric," Damon said softly, shoving his hands into his pockets as he turned away and headed toward the stairs. Without so much as a glance over his shoulder, he added. "I'll see you at home."

_Bullshit, _Elena thought as he vanished from her sight. When she returned to the house, he'd be a ghost again. She wouldn't see him until the wee hours of the morning when she woke up screaming in terror.

Closing her eyes, Elena buried her tumultuous emotions and used her anger with him to tighten the reins of her control. Damon was right about one thing – she needed to spend some time with her brother before he left for Denver in the morning.

Opening her eyes, she found Caroline watching her with a mixture of sadness and compassion. "I see it," she said softly. "You were right. Something _is _wrong with Damon."

"Yeah, well, forgive me if I don't find that all that comforting at the moment," Elena said, stalking by Caroline as she headed down the stairs.

"Elena-."

"I'll talk to you tomorrow, Care," she said, knowing she was being petulant and rude, but unable to care. Being a vampire amplified everything – even her less appealing character traits – and at the moment all she wanted to do was pretend to be human with her family and forget about Damon and whatever his stupid, infuriating _problem _was.

After everything she'd been through, she was going to take one goddamn night of normal and enjoy it.

* * *

Wandering idly through the Salvatore library, Katherine trailed her fingers over the dusty spines of the impressive collection of first editions. She'd read most of the books years ago – centuries ago in some cases – and remembered when they were first published. Someone – probably Damon – had alphabetized the entire collection by author.

Smirking mischievously, she began rearranging the titles at random.

Katherine was bored – mind-numbingly bored – and it was all Damon's fault. His goddamn existential crisis was keeping her in Mystic Falls and there didn't seem to be an end in sight. Stefan had filled her in on what he'd observed before Damon and Elena had left for the Gilbert's, but he hadn't offered a solution to the problem.

He hadn't even offered her a step two in working toward a plan.

_I'm never going to get out of this fucking town, _Katherine lamented, knowing she was being overdramatic and not caring in the slightest. A week and a half – hell, a year and a half – was like the blink of an eye to her in terms of life span, but minutes were minutes and days were days and just because she'd lived through five-hundred years worth of them didn't mean that her time wasn't valuable.

The front door opened and closed with a loud, angry _bang_ that reverberated throughout the entire house, piquing her curiosity. Abandoning her prank with the books, Katherine ventured out into the hallway before making her way silently toward the foyer.

Damon was home.

Leaning against the door with his eyes closed and his hands curled into fists, he reminded her of a drawn bow – every line of his body taut and ready to snap. Katherine sighed.

Clearly the situation was not improving.

_Enough of this shit, _she decided. Stefan may have had Damon's best interests at heart, but it was time to stop coddling everybody's _feelings _and take action.

"Aren't you missing something?" she asked, crossing her arms and leaning against the post at the bottom of the staircase.

Damon lifted his head with a jerk, narrowing his eyes at her to cover his surprise. "What?"

"Where's Elena?"

He stared at her silently, making Katherine wonder if he'd even grace her with a response. Finally, he scowled. "She's with Jeremy."

"Alone?" Katherine demanded, raising a brow in genuine surprise. Damon had been acting as Elena's personal shadow in the presence of humans, watching her like a hawk to prevent any unfortunate throat-ripping incidents.

"Yes…no…sort of," he said, surprising her even further with the rare display of ambiguity. Damon's supreme – and at times foolhardy – confidence was practically his trademark.

"Sort of?" she asked, unable to mask her incredulity.

"Elena thinks she's alone," Damon explained, pushing away from the door and striding purposefully into the living room. Following at a more sedate pace, Katherine wasn't surprised to find him already at the drink cart, pouring himself a glass of bourbon. Gulping down half of it at once, he went to the window and peered out into the darkness. "Caroline's there, keeping an eye on the house until Elena leaves and then she'll follow her back here to make sure nothing happens."

"To make sure nothing happens to the denizens of Mystic Falls or to Elena?"

Damon glanced at her. "Both," he replied, taking another drink.

"Who's idea was that?"

"Mine," he snapped, glaring at her with impatience and venom. "What's with the twenty questions, Katherine?"

Offering Damon a maddening smile, Katherine fell silent and watched him stare out of the window. She knew that he was waiting for Elena and would stay in that very spot until she made it back – covered in blood or otherwise. If everything went according to plan and Elena had returned without killing anybody, they'd celebrate and hold each other and retreat upstairs to Damon's room to…

_Well, now, wait a minute…_ Katherine tilted her head, studying Damon anew. Now that she thought about it, she couldn't remember the last time she'd seen Damon and Elena together in the house. Sure, he was glued to her little doppelganger's side whenever they left the house, but _inside _of it, where there were no humans to tempt Elena, it was a completely different story.

_No wonder he's so goddamn tense, _Katherine thought with a smirk. She hadn't _heard _them either and not even five-hundred years of practice at learning how to tune out the things she _didn't _want to hear would have prevented her from catching the odd cry of passion in the middle of the night…or afternoon.

Damon and Elena weren't sleeping together. _Interesting._

Katherine hadn't asked about the type of vampire Elena wanted to be, but knowing her doppelganger she'd want to remain as human as possible. And if that were the case, then Elena had enjoyed plenty of success during her first week as a vampire – a comparatively unnatural amount. With Damon's help, she hadn't lost control, hadn't gotten carried away by the bloodlust and hadn't killed anyone. Elena was transitioning with perfection and Damon should have been walking on fucking sunshine. Instead, he looked like he was still flirting with the idea of taking off his ring and walking into it.

What the fuck was his problem?

"_I'm not a hero, Elena. I don't do good. It's not in me." _

_Maybe it is, _Katherine thought, recalling her response from the night she'd pretended to be her doppelganger all those years ago on the front porch of the Gilbert house. She hadn't thought about that night in years and it felt like a lifetime ago.

"_Somewhere along the way you decided that I was worth saving. And I wanted to thank you for that." _

"_You're welcome." _

Katherine's gaze drifted toward the floor as she recalled the way Damon had kissed her – kissed Elena – and she smiled. It had been so familiar and a little jarring to feel his lips on hers after over a century. Damon's kiss had been the same, but there'd been a new edge to it, inspired, no doubt, by the intervening years that had turned him into the Damon she'd seen in Bree's bar.

Katherine had liked it, had even felt a spark of jealousy that he'd meant the kiss for Elena and not for her.

It had only been a spark, however, and certainly not the most telling thing about that moment on the porch. That had been the night that she'd lost Damon. Everything he'd done from that point on, whether he'd known it or not, had been for Elena Gilbert – to be worthy of her and her love.

_And now he thinks he's lost it, _Katherine realized as the pieces all fell into place.

Damon tensed, standing up straight as twin beams of light washed over the windows, illuminating the interior of the darkened living room. Broadening her range of hearing with practiced ease, Katherine tuned in on the rumble of the rental car's engine and the shifting of gears as Elena parked. A door opened and closed before the soft click of heels on the cement carried through the thick walls.

Narrowing his eyes, Damon leaned so close to the window that his nose nearly touched the pane. After a few moments of intense study, his shoulders sagged in relief. Taking his glass, he brushed by her, exiting the living room and disappearing around the staircase and into the shadows on the other side of the house.

An instant later, Elena stepped through the front door. Katherine watched, unobserved, as her twin carefully closed it behind her and secured the lock – something neither of the brothers ever bothered to do – before resting her forehead against the highly polished wood and breathing a sigh of relief.

"Tough day?" Katherine asked, sneering at the way Elena jumped and whirled around. They hadn't talked much since the afternoon she and Damon had returned from South Carolina and Katherine had yet to figure out how Elena felt about having her around.

"Tiring," Elena replied warily, lifting her chin and boldly meeting Katherine's gaze.

Looking her up and down the older vampire shrugged. "You're not covered in blood, so it looks like you can call it a success."

Elena said nothing for a long moment before lifting her shoulder in a small shrug. Crossing the foyer, she deposited the keys to the rental car on a table near the foot of the stairs. The move brought her closer to Katherine.

"Where's Damon?" Elena asked.

Katherine smirked. "You're a vampire now, you figure it out."

"I don't…" Elena sighed, closing her eyes as she bit her lip in concentration. Katherine listened, too, easily detecting the sounds of Damon moving around in the kitchen. A few seconds later, Elena's eyelids fluttered and she gazed longingly toward the back of the house.

"Well?" Katherine prompted.

Elena looked at her sharply. "Well, what?"

"Aren't you going to go in there?" Katherine asked, crossing the foyer to the staircase to stand in front of her doppelganger. Absently, she plucked at a lock of Elena's straight hair and wondered how much trouble they could get into now that they were both vampires. _We'd make an interesting team…_

Elena snatched her hair out of Katherine's grasp and took a step backwards.

_If she were more fun, _Katherine sighed, rolling her eyes. "He waited for you," she explained, pitching her voice low so that Damon wouldn't hear her. She knew he was listening. She was beginning to understand the ways he was punishing himself for what had happened to Elena, but she also knew that he couldn't disengage – not completely. "He was standing in the living room by the window, chugging bourbon until you made it back in one piece."

Elena said nothing as her gaze shifted once again toward the hallway to the kitchen. Katherine could feel the desire and longing pulsing from Elena like a goddamn beacon, but she wasn't surprised when the new vampire shook her head. Tucking her hair behind her ear, Elena skirted around Katherine and mounted the first stair. "It's been a long day," she said, keeping her voice equally low as she played with the hem of her long-sleeved shirt. "Damon's had to babysit me through it all." Katherine couldn't be sure in the darkness, but she thought she caught the flash of tears in Elena's eyes. "He could probably use a break," she added, attempting to laugh, but it came out as little more than a half-strangled sob. "Goodnight, Katherine."

Katherine watched as Elena took the stairs at a slow, human pace before disappearing into the shadows. The soft click of Damon's bedroom door carried down to her, followed by the sound of water running in the bathroom. Shaking her head, Katherine tuned it out and stalked back into the living room. Heading for the drink cart, she poured herself a glass of the first bottle she touched and gulped half of it down.

Things were worse than she'd thought.

Consumed by guilt, Damon was throwing everything he had into helping Elena become the perfect vampire, all the while keeping her at arm's length because he felt he wasn't worthy. Elena, meanwhile, _was _becoming the perfect vampire – or at least the most _human _vampire she could be – but between her goddamn empathy and her confusion over the way Damon was playing her hot and cold, she was fucking paralyzed. Something had to change and fast or there'd be nothing left of either of them.

And Katherine would be stuck in Mystic-fucking-Falls for the rest of her immortal life.

* * *

_This chapter wasn't rife with exciting action, but I hope you enjoyed it nonetheless. Mystic Falls social functions are always dramatic events and the Founder's Party won't be an exception... Until then, thank you for being awesome and please, drop me a review and let me know what you're thinking. I've loved reading your thoughts on the tension between Damon and Elena - especially given that I'm not letting you inside of Damon's head just yet. heh heh heh_

_Thank you! _


	21. Opening Night Jitters

_AN: Thanks to the beta, thanks to the readers. This is l-o-n-g, it's got something a lot of you have been waiting for. Enjoy!_

Chapter Twenty-One – Opening Night Jitters

Staring at the ceiling, and unable to sleep, Elena lay in the middle of Damon's bed, twirling her daylight ring around her finger. Tomorrow was the day – the Founder's Party – and even though she'd spent every waking moment since the near-disaster at the Grille working on her control, she was plagued by anxiety.

What if's tumbled through her head, disrupting the peace of mind she desperately needed for the party in the afternoon.

What if she hurt someone she cared about – someone she'd known since childhood?

What if she exposed them all – Caroline, Damon, Tyler, Stefan and Katherine – to the entire town?

What if she put her friends and family in danger because she couldn't keep her bloodlust in check?

What if she failed?

Whimpering softly, Elena closed her eyes and pressed her fingertips to her forehead – trying to silence her over-active brain by pressure and sheer force of will. She needed to sleep. She'd spent her day setting up for the party with Damon, Caroline, Tyler, a handful of caterers and event planners whose heartbeats had barely stirred her heightened senses. The small success gave her comfort, but it was also frustrating as hell – the exhaustion that usually came after a full day of keeping her base desires under control was nowhere to be found.

Sighing, Elena rolled over onto her side, pillowing her head in her hands as she stared at Damon's empty spot next to her on the bed. _Speaking of nowhere to be found, _she thought as she took in the smooth, undisturbed sheets. Reaching out, she trailed her fingertips lightly over the high-thread count cotton, wondering where her boyfriend was and why he wasn't in bed with her.

Again.

A part of her had been staying awake to wait for him – leaping at the opportunity given the fact that she hadn't fallen asleep the second her head hit the pillow – but as time had passed, she'd been forced to consider the idea that maybe he wasn't going to come.

Maybe tonight he'd leave her to deal with her nightmares alone.

_I don't believe that, _she vowed, banishing the traitorous thought to the back of her mind. He was in the house, caught up in a book or something. He would have told her if he were going out.

Wouldn't he?

Following an impulse, Elena threw back the covers, deliberately messing up the perfectly straight sheets on Damon's side as she slid across the bed and placed her feet silently on the floor. Holding her breath, she crossed to the door and slipped through the opening into the darkened hallway. The second floor was dark and silent, but the railing of the staircase stood out in sharp relief, illuminated from below.

Cautiously, Elena crept across the landing toward the stairs, tuning in with her heightened senses. The smell of burning wood and the soft snap and crackle of flame told her that someone had a fire going in the living room. Closing her eyes, she tried to pick out a more concrete sign of life, but vampire heartbeats were almost impossible for her to detect from a room – or in this case a floor – away.

Biting her lip, Elena looked back toward Damon's bedroom, toward the huge, comfortable, _empty _bed that waited for her within. She should go back and try to sleep. She needed it, needed to be focused and at her best for the party.

She needed Damon.

How could she be focused and at her best if she spent the entire time worrying about her boyfriend?

Moving with extra care, Elena descended the stairs, relieved that her bare feet made no sound on the wooden floor, but knowing that it would be a damn miracle if she managed to observe Damon without him knowing.

* * *

_Hunching down in the passenger seat of a rental car, Elena strained to see over the dashboard while keeping out of sight. A weak draft of cool air trickled out from the vents, barely alleviating the heat from the June sun beating down on the car. Narrowing her eyes at the unfamiliar dash, she adjusted a few controls, basking in the blast of cool air. Shooting a glance toward the driver's seat, she muttered. "I can't believe I let you talk me into this."_

_Jeremy snorted as he rolled his eyes. "Right, because this was all my idea."_

"_You're the one who wanted to know what Damon does all day," Elena argued, lowering her oversized sunglasses to study the massive front doors of the county library that Damon had entered fifteen minutes ago. _

"_And you're the one who decided to follow him around Atlanta instead of just asking him," Jeremy retorted. _

"_Oh, please," Elena muttered, rolling her eyes as her cheeks flushed with heat. "You were all over the spy game, James Bond. I didn't hear you complain-."_

"_Shhh, here he comes," Jeremy whispered, hitting Elena on the arm to shut her up as if Damon might somehow hear her through the glass and steel frame of the car from fifty feet away as he jogged down the marble steps to where he'd illegally double parked the Camaro. _

_Slouching down even further, Elena's heart raced as she glanced at Jeremy. Leaning forward, her brother had both arms braced on the steering wheel, his face almost pressed against the windshield in an effort to keep an eye on Damon's car. After a few long moments, Jeremy twisted the key in the ignition and quickly pulled out onto the bustling Atlanta street. _

"_He's three cars ahead," her brother announced as Elena cautiously sat up in her seat and located the classic car. Hiding behind the sunglasses and a floppy straw hat that she usually reserved for the beach, Elena felt equal parts idiotic and exhilarated as they tailed Damon through the mid-day traffic. Regardless of whose idea it had been to stalk Damon, she had to admit she was having fun. _

"_Where's he going?" Jeremy asked, tugging awkwardly on the bill of the baseball cap she'd made him wear. _

_Elena looked around. "The park," she said, recognizing the familiar scenery. "Grant Park." _

"_What's he going to do?" Jeremy grumbled as he found a place to park half a block away from where Damon had left the Camaro. "Feed the birds?" _

"_You sound disappointed," Elena chuckled, climbing out of the rental car and doing her best to walk casually as she kept Damon's familiar form in sight. "Were you expecting him to spend the day preying on humans?" _

"_Well, he's a vampire," Jeremy said, pitching his voice low even though there was nobody close enough to hear. "It's really not that much of a stretch."_

Oh, it kind of is,_Elena thought, biting her lip as she recalled the night before Jeremy had arrived. Preying on humans for blood wasn't necessary when Damon had a willing donor right there in bed with him. _

_Not that she would_ ever_, in a million years, share that fact with her brother. _

_Following at a safe distance, Jeremy and Elena spied on Damon as he made his way through the vast acreage to the Oakland Cemetery located on the grounds. _

"_Visiting friends?" Jeremy quipped, grunting as Elena smacked him in the stomach with the back of her hand. Ducking behind huge family monuments and mausoleums, they followed Damon's progress through the burial ground. He didn't stop at any particular grave, but his path was seemingly random and winding enough for Elena to guess that her brother might be right. She and Damon had done the tourist thing last fall and she knew there were a lot of Confederate soldiers buried there. It wasn't a stretch to assume that Damon might have fought beside one or two of them. _

_Before she had a chance to dwell on that sobering thought, he led them out of the cemetery and into a wide, open area. Feeling exposed without the granite tombstones to hide behind, Elena tugged on Jeremy's arm and made him slow down. They continued to hang back as Damon followed the cement walkway towards an area that Elena recognized as the local farmer's market. _

"_Grocery shopping?" Jeremy asked incredulously as they wandered amidst the food stands. "Your boyfriend is boring." _

"_Well, we do need to eat and Damon's on this organic kick right now." Elena supplied with a grin. "Something about it bringing out true flavors or whatever."_

"_This is lame." Her brother declared. "Damon is lame."_

"_And you hero worship the ground he walks on," Elena teased with an easy grin. "What does that say about you?" _

"_Whatever," Jeremy retorted, rolling his eyes and tugging on the baseball cap again in an effort to hide the flush of embarrassment at being called out. They followed Damon through the farmer's market as he made a few purchases before heading back toward his car. _

_The rest of the morning and early afternoon was more of the same as Damon unknowingly led them through his day. After the famer's market, he stopped by the High Museum of Art, nearly losing them amidst the dizzying maze of wall partitions and sculpture before heading back to the Camaro and making a pit stop at his favorite liquor store. _

"_Now, this is more like it," Jeremy announced as Damon pulled into the parking lot of a hospital. Climbing out of the car, he opened the trunk and retrieved a cooler, swinging it casually as he walked confidently toward the entrance._

"_What do you think you're doing?" Elena asked, grabbing Jeremy's wrist as he whipped into a parking spot and opened the door before he'd switched off the engine._

"_Following Damon," he replied, looking at her askance. _

"_Not in there," Elena insisted, shaking her head for added emphasis._

"_Aw, come on," Jeremy groaned, slouching back against tan leather seat. "He's going to go in there and compel himself some blood. This is like, the most interesting thing he's done all day."_

"_How is watching Damon compel some orderly 'the most interesting thing he's done all day?'"_

"_It's the most vampire-y thing we've seen him do since you guys moved to Atlanta. I want to see him in action!"_

"_Give me a break, Jer. There is no way we can scope him out in a hallway full of sick people with my floppy hat and your baseball cap," she argued, mortified by the notion of getting caught stalking her boyfriend on a blood run off all places. "He'll see us."_

_Grumbling, but unable to argue with her logic, Jeremy crossed his arms, slouching down in the seat as they waited for Damon to exit with his ill-gotten blood bags. They didn't have to wait for long – within twenty minutes, he'd strolled out through the front doors with an obviously full cooler in his hands. _

_Rush hour had begun and traffic was picking up as Damon pulled out of the hospital parking lot and maneuvered slowly through the Atlanta streets. Jeremy had a difficult time keeping up with him, actually driving past him as he pulled into a parking spot in the shopping district. _

"_Quick, quick," Elena ordered, craning her neck to keep an eye on him as Jeremy swooped into a spot a few cars down from the Camaro. They watched as Damon paused on the sidewalk and gazed at a storefront. Narrowing her eyes, Elena studied the elegant script etched into the glass of the door._

D. Geller & Son_, __she read, struggling to make out the smaller words across the bottom._ Where Atlanta gets…

Engaged.

_Engaged? Elena gasped, her throat going dry as her lungs stopped functioning. Damon had just gone into a jewelry store – a jewelry store with a reputation for engagements. _

What the hell is he doing?

"_What's he doing?" Jeremy asked, inadvertently echoing her thoughts as he leaned across the console separating the seats to get a closer view. "What kind of store is that?"_

"_I don't know," Elena stammered quickly, shoving him back over to his side of the vehicle. Swallowing, she tried to convince herself that she was leaping to conclusions. There had to be a logical explanation – other than the obvious. There was no way Damon was in that store looking at engagement rings. _

_Was there?_

_Elena had more than half an hour to dwell as she waited for Damon to exit the store. By the time he walked through the door, she'd chewed off all of the fingernails on her right hand and her stomach was in knots. Stopping in the middle of the sidewalk, Damon did little to ease her anxiety as he scanned a piece of paper – that may or may not have been a receipt – before shoving it into his pocket and heading back to his car. Slouching in her seat once again, she and Jeremy waited for Damon to drive past their parking spot before backing out and beginning the chase anew. _

_Traffic was terrible, but Jeremy managed to keep the Camaro in his sights, following Damon into the parking lot of a supermarket. Thinking they'd be safe hiding amidst the aisles, Elena let Jeremy shut off the car and follow her boyfriend inside. _

_The supermarket was huge and packed, bustling with the after work crowd as they perused the aisles in a hurry to find food for dinner and get home to their families. Unable to find a balance between staying out of sight and keeping an eye on Damon, Jeremy and Elena quickly lost him in the sea of people. _

"_After all of that, we lose him in a grocery store?" her brother sighed dejectedly as they made their way back to the rental car. "That's so pathetic."_

"_At least we didn't get caught," Elena said with a strained chuckle, still rattled by Damon's visit to the jewelry store. She loved him, she'd already decided that she wanted to be with him forever, but there was something incredibly real about the idea of marriage that left her reeling._

_Rush hour traffic clogged the streets, making the drive back to the apartment take twice as long as it had that morning. By the time Jeremy pulled into the guest parking spot, he was over his disappointment that Damon hadn't done anything particularly supernatural and had begun wondering what they were going to have for dinner. _

"_I don't know," Elena replied, sliding her key into the door to her third floor apartment. "I thought maybe we could…"_

_She'd been ready to suggest that they go out to eat, but the mouth-watering aroma of eggplant parmesan and garlic bread stopped her words as she opened the door. One glance at the place settings on the dining room table told her all she needed to know. _

_Damon had beaten them home_ and_started dinner._

"_Hey," he greeted them, glancing up at them as he tugged a cork out of a bottle of red wine. "Where have you guys been?" _

_Stammering, Jeremy's bravado fell by the wayside as he scrambled for a response. "We, um-."_

"_I was showing Jeremy around Emory," Elena replied, shooting her brother a look before turning her attention to the food spread out on the counter. _Worse liar in the world._ "Looks like you had a busy day."_

"_Nothing special," Damon shrugged, pouring the wine into three separate glasses. Handing one to her, he smirked. "Nice hat." _

_Taking the glass, Elena's eyes went wide as she automatically reached up and tugged the hat off of her head. Running a hand through her disheveled hair, she narrowed her eyes at her boyfriend as he winked at her. Taking in the knowing glint in his eye and combining it with the smug curve of his lips, caused Elena's stomach to drop to her feet. _

Son of a bitch.

"_You knew!" she cried, pointing an accusing finger at him as her jaw dropped. Her cheeks burned as she shook her head. "Oh my god, you knew the whole time, didn't you?"_

"_Wait, what?" Jeremy asked. "What are you talking about?" _

"_When did you figure it out?" Elena demanded, fighting a smile of indignation and embarrassment as she leaned on the counter and stared him down. Of course Damon had known. How could she have ever been so stupid as to think that she could track him without getting caught? Not only was he a vampire, he was _her_ vampire, hyper-aware of her every move, much to her endless frustration. _

"_When did I figure out what?" he asked with exaggerated innocence that chased away any remaining doubt Elena had been harboring over whether or not he'd been stringing them along the entire freaking day. "That I was being followed?"_

"_Aw, man," Jeremy sighed, tearing the baseball cap off of his head as he made his way dejectedly toward the couch. _

"_When was it?" Elena repeated, ignoring her brother as she squared off with Damon. "The farmer's market? The liquor store?" _

"_The library," Damon revealed with a wicked grin as he leaned over the counter and kissed her quickly on the lips. Elena started, dumbfounded and more than a little chagrined at the knowledge that her attempts at stealth had been that pathetic. "I would recognize that horrendous hat anywhere. Caroline has the most questionable taste in history."_

_Elena's jaw dropped as she protested. "This hat is adorable!"_

_Damon raised a brow. "Right. Just like the penguin umbrella stand currently uglying up our front door."_

"_I look awesome in this hat!" Elena declared indignantly._

"_You look awesome in anything. It doesn't mean that that hat is any less horrendous." Damon responded nonchalantly, as he began slicing cucumbers for the salad._

_The compliment warmed her, even as she rolled her eyes at his derisive appraisal of Caroline's taste in fashion._

"_Wait," she said as another thought suddenly dawned on her. Casting a glance at Jeremy, she moved to the other side of the counter and joined him by the chopping block. Hooking a finger into the waistband of his jeans, she whispered. "You knew I was watching when you stopped by that jewelry store?" _

"_Yeah," he said without sparing her a glance as he focused on the food._

_Elena bit her lip, wedging her hip between the counter and Damon so that she could get his attention. "So…it was all just…part of your game, then?" she asked, tugging him closer as she tried to decided what she wanted his answer to be._

_Damon turned his head, regarding her with an inscrutable expression as he shrugged. "You'll just have to wait and see."_

* * *

Elena paused at the foot of the stairs, bouncing on the balls of her bare feet as she listened intently to the sounds coming from the living room. She didn't want Damon to know she was awake, let alone potentially spying on him.

She wanted to catch him with his guard down.

Holding her breath, she crept toward the doorway that led into the living room, carefully studying every inch of space for a glimpse of him as it came into view. Steadying herself against the ornate woodwork framing the opening, Elena leaned forward, taking in the room inch by slow inch as the antique furniture and the dying embers in the fireplace came into view.

No Damon.

Frowning, she was about to admit that she'd been wrong when she heard the distinctive sound of crystal hitting crystal followed by a splash of liquid.

_Oh_.

The drink cart was still out of sight.

Opening her mouth in a silent gasp, Elena ducked around the corner, completely out of sight, as Damon unexpectedly came into view. Her pulse pounded in her head, radiating throughout her entire body so loudly that she was certain he would hear it. Closing her eyes, she drew a slow, silent breath before daring to take another look.

Standing before the fire, every line of Damon's body screamed fatigue. His shoulders were tense, drawn nearly to his ears and even from across the room she could make out the shadows beneath his eyes. Every few minutes, he brought the glass to his lips, taking a healthy sip that she wondered if he could even taste.

_He's drinking again, _she realized, her heart breaking a little. _Really_ drinking. While he'd never stopped indulging, there was a difference between a guy who thoroughly enjoyed a good single-malt scotch and what her boyfriend was doing now. Elena had noticed the difference in the past two weeks, but for some reason in that moment, the knowledge hit home in a physical, painful way.

Bringing the glass to his lips again and taking another healthy sip, Elena continued to watch as her boyfriend stared coolly into the flames.

She knew this Damon even though she hadn't seen him like this in years.

Not since those brutal 3 days when they'd been looking for Stefan back in Savannah and they'd fought.

He'd pulled away then.

_Just as he was pulling away now._

Damon was drinking to escape from something, to drown it in an ocean of mind-numbing alcohol so that he didn't have to feel it. The question was – what? The memories of what had happened with Landis? The guilt?

Her?

Elena's stomach turned as the thought crossed her mind. It wasn't the first time she'd questioned the affect her transition was having on Damon. She'd wondered about it since the night they'd been reunited and he'd seen her vamp out for the first time. What had started out as an idle thought was swiftly snowballing into a full-fledged fear.

What if Damon's feelings for her had changed?

Elena shrank back as Damon headed toward the couch, settling onto the cushions and stretching out with his feet toward the fire. Pressing her cheek against the smooth wooden paneling, she watched as he bent his arm behind his head and drank in silence. The embers in the fireplace dwindled into smoldering coals as time passed slowly. Between sips of bourbon, he let his arm drape over the side of the couch, gripping the tumbler loosely as it rested on the floor until it was time for another drink. Elena knew the moment he'd dozed off by the way his fingers loosened and relaxed around the crystal glass.

Closing her eyes, she focused on the soft sound of his heartbeat, feeling closer to him than she had since she'd turned. Tears pooled behind her eyes as her entire body ached with longing – longing to be with him, longing to curl up beside him on the couch and simply breathe until their heartbeats matched and she fell asleep. She knew with absolute certainty that if she did, there'd be no nightmares. If she and Damon could just find their way back to each other, they'd both be able to heal. Listening intently as tears rolled down her cheeks, she waited until she'd counted one hundred evenly-spaced, slow beats before opening her eyes and creeping silently into the living room.

Perching gingerly on the edge of the coffee table, Elena brushed the tears off of her cheeks, mindful of the slightest noise as the antique piece took on her weight. Curling her fingers into fists to stifle the urge to reach out and trail her fingers down his cheek and trace his lips with her thumb, she studied his sleep-softened features in silence.

_Is this where you've been sleeping? _she wondered, knowing with an unsettling certainty now that he wasn't sleeping with her. She'd assumed that he'd eventually made it to bed each night simply because he'd been there when she'd woken up screaming, but now she realized that with his vampire hearing her cries of terror would carry to him anywhere in the house.

Why was he doing this? Was it guilt? Fear? Revulsion? Leaning forward, she narrowed her eyes, as if she'd somehow see beyond his walls now that he was asleep and vulnerable. Her weight shifted, causing the coffee table to creak and a furrow to appear between Damon's brows. Panicking, Elena surged to her feet, blurring out of the room and up the twisting staircase to the second floor. Ducking inside of his room, she leapt back into bed and curled onto her side.

Silence

_Why the hell did I do that? _she wondered, straining her ears to catch any sounds of movement from the first floor over the thundering beat of the pulse between her ears. Her relationship with Damon was falling apart at the seams and here she was, feigning sleep like a child caught out of her room after bedtime. Why hadn't she woken him? Why hadn't she demanded answers? They couldn't go on like this forever, together but not, as the strain on their relationship increased on a daily basis. Why hadn't she started the inevitable fight that loomed on the horizon?

_Because I'm afraid._

Elena's heart constricted painfully, skipping a full beat as she curled her body into a tighter ball and clutched the covers beneath her chin. She hadn't asked Damon the questions because she was afraid of his answers.

* * *

Shrugging into his charcoal suit jacket, Stefan raised a brow as he adjusted his tie in the mirror. The Founder's Party would officially start in half an hour and Damon and Elena had already left. Typically Katherine preferred arriving fashionably late in order to make her typical grand entrance. Tonight, considering why they were going and what they intended to do, she'd announced that they were going to be on time.

Mostly so that she could get it over with.

"I never thought I'd be dressing up for one of these again," he murmured, shifting his focus to Katherine's reflection as she stepped into her dress and pulled it up over her hips.

"Never is a very long time when 'forever' isn't hyperbole," she said, adjusting the wide straps of the sleeveless black dress as she shot him a withering look. "And we wouldn't be going if you'd agreed to my idea."

Stefan snorted, turning to Katherine as she presented her back to him and swept her artfully curled hair over her shoulder. Her 'idea' had involved locking Damon and Elena in the cell in the basement for a few days –naked – until they got over themselves. Gripping the delicate zipper, he carefully pulled it up, mindful of the thin, gauzy overlay that threatened to get stuck every few inches. "Plan B, Katherine," he reminded her. "We agreed to try my idea first."

"Talking is overrated," she argued, shivering as he secured the zipper and pressed a kiss to the skin at the nape of her neck.

"Yeah, but it gives Damon less reason to hunt me down and kick my ass," he replied with a grin as she turned around and wrapped her arms around his neck.

"I think he'd be too busy fu-"

"Trust me, he'd find the time." Stefan interrupted, his grin widening at Katherine's crudeness.

"You're still afraid of your big brother," Katherine said mockingly as she dragged her fingertips through his hair. Without her heels on, she actually had to crane her neck to meet his eye. "That's so cute."

"We have a deal, remember?" Stefan retorted, ignoring her as he smoothed his hands over her hips before locking them around her waist. Katherine sighed before pursing her lips and looking away. Watching her with curiosity, Stefan wondered what she planned to say to Elena. The sum total of his speech to Damon was going to be 'get your head out of your ass and stop brooding.' Stefan figured the best way to snap his brother out of his funk was to point out just how much he'd been acting like _he _had for most of his vampire existence.

He had a feeling that Katherine's conversation with Elena would be a bit more…_to the point._

"Yeah, yeah, talk first," Katherine said as her lips curved into the devilish smirk that he knew so well. He couldn't help but return it as she added. "Forcibly restrain later."

* * *

Twisting in front of the full length mirror, Elena eyed her bare back with trepidation. The Founder's Party was about to begin and she and Caroline were both putting the finishing touches on their outfits and hair in a guest bedroom at the Lockwood Estate.

"I can't believe I let you talk me into this dress," she muttered, knowing that Caroline would hear her in the bathroom.

Leaning through the doorway, the blonde looked at the dress with a critical eye before breaking into a wide smile. "You look amazing," she said. "Damon's going to love it."

Rolling her eyes, Elena couldn't help but return the smile as her friend ducked back into the bathroom to finish her make up. She hadn't chosen the dress with the express purpose of making her boyfriend drool, but Caroline was right, Damon _would _love it. The dark green fabric hugged her curves with sleek precision, bringing out the flecks of gold in her dark brown eyes and the highlights in her hair. From the front, the dress appeared modest – if a hem stopping just short of mid-thigh could be considered modest – with long sleeves and a neckline that covered most of her collarbone.

The back – or lack thereof – made her stomach twist into knots.

It plunged down from her shoulders, all the way to the curve of her bottom, where it draped elegantly, leaving the entire expanse of her back bare. Caroline had styled her hair in an elaborate French braid that curved around her head and over her shoulder, leaving her neck bare as well.

The dress coupled with her hair conspired to make her feel so…exposed.

"How am I supposed to sit down in this thing without flashing the entire town?" she asked, smoothing her hands over her hips and tugging on the ridiculously short skirt.

"You can't, really," Caroline replied matter-of-factly from the bathroom. "You kind of have to, like, _lean._"

"Lean?" Elena repeated. "Wonderful."

"Beauty is pain," the blonde quipped with a wink as she breezed into the room, her long, perfectly curled hair fluttering out behind her. Opening one of four shoeboxes at the foot of the bed, she pulled out a pair of sky high leopard print platform stilettos, brandishing one like a trophy in each hand.

Elena's eyes went wide. "You have _got _to be kidding me!"

"What?" Caroline replied innocently, presenting the shoes to her expectantly. "You wear heels, Elena."

"_Heels_," she stressed, jabbing a finger at the five inch spikes jutting out from the soles of the shoes. "Those are stilts."

"Oh, my god," Caroline cried in exasperation. "Stop acting like this is some kind of _What Not To Wear_ intervention! You are not a fashion pariah or a perpetual klutz. You are a hot, sexy vampire and you _will _wear these shoes."

"I am going to fall on my ass wearing those, Caroline."

"Oh, you will not! Trust me…just walk slowly, everyone will think you're being _seductive__."_ Caroline paused before finishing "And if you fall, there are enough vampires around to compel everyone to forget it happened. You'll be fine."

Glaring at her friend, Elena grudgingly accepted the offered shoes, eyeing them skeptically as she placed a hand on the nearby dresser for balance. Slipping the heels on one at a time, she straightened up and took a few tentative steps. After an initial moment of wobbliness, she found her equilibrium, taking a few surprisingly smooth steps toward the full-length mirror.

_Damn, _she thought, raising her brows in appreciation. The leopard print actually looked really good with the color of the dress – not to mention making her legs look a mile long.

"Admit it," Caroline said, sidling up next to her and smoothing invisible wrinkles out of her strapless, fuchsia tea-length dress. "I know what I'm doing. We look amazing."

Trying not to roll her eyes, Elena couldn't fight the grin that tugged at her lips. She'd been dreading the Founder's Party since the moment Caroline had dragged her into it. For the most part, she still was. Despite Caroline and Damon's insistence that she was up to the challenge, Elena had serious doubts about her control of the bloodlust.

But at least she'd look hot while she ripped the Founding Families to shreds.

A low whistle caught Elena's attention, making her turn toward the open bedroom door. Tyler stood in the doorway in his suit, leaning against the frame and gazing appreciatively at both her and Caroline. "Wow," he said, smiling at his girlfriend.

"Thank you," the blond vampire replied with a grin, shooting an 'I told you so' look Elena's way.

"The guests are starting to arrive," he said, his expression shifting to one of concern as sweat broke out on Elena's brow and goosebumps rose up and down her spine. "Are you ready?"

Licking her suddenly dry lips, Elena stammered. "I-I don't-."

"Five minutes," Caroline said, holding up her hand, fingers splayed for emphasis as she moved toward the door and shooed him toward the stairs. "We'll be right down."

Offering Elena a nod of support, Tyler headed toward the grand staircase leading down to the first floor. Closing the door behind him, Caroline scurried into the bathroom.

"Caroline, I don't think I can do this," Elena whispered, wringing her hands as her best friend returned with two champagne flutes and an unopened blood bag.

"I know you don't, but if I waited for you to believe that you could, you'd still be shut up in the Salvatore house hanging out with Alaric," the blonde stated sensibly as she placed the champagne flutes onto the dresser and began splitting the contents of the blood bag between them. The aroma made Elena's mouth water. "Now, did you do what I told you?"

Elena nodded, recalling the double serving of blood she'd consumed before arriving at the Lockwood Estate. "Yes."

"Perfect," Caroline nodded, tossing the empty blood bag into the wastebasket before handing Elena one of the champagne flutes. "Between that and this little snack, it should keep the edge off for the rest of the night." Clinking the glasses together, she added a bright. "Cheers."

"Cheers," Elena replied, trying to soak up some of Caroline's optimism as she brought the glass to her lips. The blood hit her tongue, making her moan softly as her taste buds exploded with delight. She wondered if there would ever come a time when feeding didn't cause a sensory overload that nearly left her an incoherent, babbling mess.

Despite the desire to gorge, Elena forced herself to match her friend's slow, measured sips until the entire contents of the glass had disappeared. Resisting the urge to sweep her finger around the inside of the champagne flute to get at the blood lining the side of the glass, Elena turned her attention to the mirror, taking one last look at the final product of Caroline's hard work and double checking to make sure she hadn't dribbled her dinner down her chin.

"Let's go," Caroline announced, slipping her arm through Elena's and escorting her toward the door. The chatter of the guests carried up from the first floor, causing her to suck in a sharp breath. "Take it slow," Caroline cautioned, speaking with quiet intensity despite the smile plastered on her face. "One second at a time. There are plenty of blood bags in the cooler in the bathroom upstairs if you start to get shaky. Just take the heels off and run."

Swallowing as they hit the bottom stair, Elena nodded, trying to match Caroline's smile. Focusing on the murmur of voices, rather than the human heartbeats pulsing underneath, she braced herself for the initial onslaught of bloodlust.

It didn't come.

Letting out the breath she'd inadvertently been holding, she scented the air, still clinging tightly to Caroline's arm. The scent of blood was there, calling to her and making her mouth water, but the desperation, the _need _that normally accompanied it, failed to materialize. It was like being hungry in her favorite restaurant – annoying and persistent – but manageable.

"Nice," Caroline nodded her approval, leading Elena toward the foyer where the guests were congregating amidst uniformed servers with trays of champagne. Taking two from one of the passing trays, she handed one to Elena and toasted her again. "You are _so _ready for this."

_I hope you're right, _Elena thought nervously, plastering a smile on her face as she took a sip of the champagne. The dry, bubbly alcohol slid smoothly down her throat, further distracting her from the desire to feed. Scanning the faces of the people she'd known since childhood, she swallowed. _I really, really hope you're right._

* * *

Damon sipped his bourbon, watching Elena over the rim of his glass, as she smiled and laughed and danced with Alaric. She looked stunning and completely at ease amid the sea of humans surrounding her – and even if Damon had wanted to look away, he wouldn't have been able to. The deep, shimmery green of her dress contrasted beautifully with her skin, making it glow in the soft lighting on the veranda. His mouth went dry – not for the first time – as Alaric turned her in a slow circle until her back was to him.

Clamping his lips shut, he managed to hold back a groan.

All Damon saw was bare skin – miles of it, framed in that enticing green. His vision blurred as he imagined that same bare skin – this time framed by _him – _from behind, his fangs sinking into her throat, her low moans of pleasure…

The taste of her blood hitting his tongue…

Damon's grip on the glass tightened as all of the blood in _his_ body surged straight to his groin.

Alaric whispered something to her, causing Elena to throw back her head in laughter…and drawing the attention of every fucking male in the room.

He'd never been jealous of the looks Elena had received when they'd gone out. As long as no one had touched her, he'd let them stare – she was fucking gorgeous and they would have been idiots not to – smug with the knowledge that she was his.

Watching Alaric dance with Elena, however, his best friend's hand lightly resting at the small of her back, Damon found himself contemplating homicide.

Gulping his bourbon, his gaze drifted lower, toward the floor, in an attempt to reign in his thoughts. And his out of control libido. All he saw, however, was a pair of impossibly perfect legs.

_Fucking hell, _he thought as he took in every graceful line, _those heels. _

The heels had to be at least five inches – maybe six – and they added length to Elena's already long legs. Damon stared, slowly drinking in the sight of her delicate ankles, the curve of her calf, the back of her knee, her perfectly toned thigh, the green fabric that hugged her ass and then he was back to where he'd started – wanting to kill his best friend for having his hands on his girlfriend's bare skin.

Even if Alaric was literally the _last _person who'd ever be interested in Elena.

"You should ask her to dance."

Stefan's voice startled Damon out of his murderous thoughts, drawing his attention away from Elena long enough to acknowledge his brother's presence. Glaring at him, he drained his drink and signaled the bartender for another.

"Enjoying yourself?" Damon asked, evading the question and wondering why his brother was still in Mystic Falls, let alone at a town function.

"Oh, you know me," Stefan said, lifting a shoulder as he surveyed the dance floor. "I can't stay away from these social gatherings. They're such a rarity in this town."

Despite his bad mood, Damon smirked. "Does it surprise you that Caroline's managed to become the planning committee?"

"Not at all," Stefan replied with a grin as the bartender returned with a fresh drink for Damon and a whiskey seven for his brother. They drank in silence, Elena's soft laughter inevitably drawing Damon's gaze back to her and Alaric as they continued to dance. He'd thought about tuning into their conversation – just to make sure Elena was handling the bloodlust as smoothly as it appeared – but he couldn't bring himself to do it. He already felt like a goddamn prison guard with the way he'd been hovering around her since he'd returned. Eavesdropping on her private conversation didn't feel right.

_I wouldn't have to eavesdrop at all if I just fucking talked to her. _

Flitting through his mind, the errant thought made Damon's heart beat painfully harder in his chest. He missed her – missed her so fucking much that he could barely breathe around the knot of longing in his gut and the lump in his throat. He couldn't believe he was watching from the sidelines while Elena danced with another man – even if it was his best friend and her pseudo guardian.

Then he blinked and he was back in the clearing, back at the foot of the cliff staring down into Elena's vacant eyes as he held her broken and bloody body in his arms. Panic and loss ripped through him, as palpable and vibrant as it had been that night. Damon swore he could feel the rocky ground beneath his knees and hear the wind rushing through the trees as he pressed his bloody wrist to her throat and begged her to drink – to live.

_She's not dead, _he repeated for the millionth time, trying to take comfort in that fact, but another thought followed on the heels of that cold comfort.

No thanks to him.

_This is how it has to be, _he reminded himself. He'd failed her on that cliff, but he wouldn't fail her now. He'd make sure that she learned how to control the bloodlust and to have a normal life without spilling a single drop of human blood. There hadn't been a vampire in history that hadn't killed, but goddammit, somehow he'd make sure that Elena became the first and would never have to shoulder the guilt of taking a human life.

It was the least he could do after the way he'd fucked everything up.

"Elena looks like she's enjoying herself," Stefan observed, stubbornly lingering on the topic even though Damon had zero interest in discussing Elena – with him or anyone else. "She's doing really well."

"Yes, she is," Damon agreed, tensing slightly as a one of Alaric's fellow teachers interrupted him and Elena to say hello. He watched closely, noting the way she began to fidget with her earrings as she endured the brief conversation. Her strained smile as Alaric took her back into his arms was the only sign of the effort she'd put into maintaining her control. Letting out the breath he'd been holding, Damon found his brother staring at him expectantly. "I don't want her to think otherwise."

"Is that why you're letting Ric dance with her while you brood?" Stefan asked, raising a brow. "Because you're afraid she'll doubt herself if her actual date pays attention to her?"

Damon blinked, stunned by the blunt appraisal. "This isn't a date, Stefan, this is about-."

"I know what this is about," Stefan interrupted smoothly, nodding in that patronizing way that made Damon's temper shoot from zero to rage in half a second. If Stefan noticed, he didn't let it faze him as he continued. "This is about you and your guilt. This is about punishing yourself for what happened to Elena and I'm here to tell you that you're being an idiot."

Damon glowered at him. "You don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh, really?" Stefan retorted with a laugh. "_I _don't know what I'm talking about? I think for once I'm uniquely qualified. I know exactly what I'm talking about."

"You know shit, little brother," Damon sneered.

"Shut up and listen to me," Stefan snapped, the conversational tone he'd had when they'd started talking had been replaced with impatience – a trait that broody, morose Stefan would never have indulged in. "I understand that you feel like a failure, completely undeserving of her love, her time, her _anything_, but that isn't how she feels," he continued, speaking each word distinctly, as if Damon were some kind of idiot. "Maybe in the beginning Elena needed you to keep her at arm's length so that she could find her footing, but it's been two weeks-."

"Wait," Damon demanded, shock replacing his anger as he stared, wide-eyed at his brother. "Two weeks?" _What the fuck?_

"Yes. Two weeks," Stefan repeated with a sigh. "I'm not going to waste my time explaining the many reasons why what you're doing is stupid and going to have the opposite effect you're hoping for. She's got Caroline for a babysitter, Damon, she needs you to be her partner. Get out there and ask Elena to dance."

Two weeks. How the fuck had it been two weeks? Damon looked at Elena, trying to separate the bleak passage of time since she'd been kidnapped into days and nights, but it was all a blur of panic and pain, frustration and longing. It had been longer than two weeks, really. He hadn't held her because he simply wanted to since he'd sent her back to Atlanta – hadn't really talked to her, hadn't kissed her, hadn't…

_Christ on a mother-fucking crutch. _They hadn't made love in weeks? Gazing at Elena out on the dance floor, he thought about the nights he'd spent on the couch while she slept alone in his bed and wondered if he'd lost his goddamn mind. How could he keep her at arm's length? What was he…

Elena reaching for him as she fell, panic and hope warring in her gaze.

Watching her fall…knowing he was going to be too late.

Elena's empty, accusing gaze.

His failure.

Damon clenched his jaw as he dropped his gaze, staring into his glass of bourbon. In the dim lighting, the amber liquid looked red, reminding him of all of the blood on his hands – Elena's blood. Attempting to draw a breath around the tightness in his chest, he said. "It's not that easy."

Stefan shrugged, dismissing Damon's excuses with ease. "Make it that easy."

* * *

Elena gripped Alaric's hand carefully, focusing on his voice as they danced while trying not to crush his fingers. Damon had never had a problem harnessing his superior strength, but she was still getting used to it and she didn't want Alaric's fingers to suffer the same fate as the numerous broken door handles at the Salvatore house.

"How are you doing?" Alaric asked as they moved to the slow, but pleasant instrumental piece.

"I'm doing fine," Elena said, offering him a genuine smile and realizing that it was the absolute truth. The steady thrum of human heartbeats was a constant beneath the regular noise of the party, but so far, she'd managed the bloodlust with surprising ease.

Of course, she'd been holding her breath since she'd come down the staircase with Caroline, but Alaric didn't need to know that. Part of her felt like she was cheating while the rest of her was simply relieved that she hadn't attacked anybody.

Alaric nodded, his easy smile revealing no qualms about dancing with a brand new vampire. The lingering tension in Elena's body ebbed away as she bit the inside of her cheek to hold back the tears of gratitude.

"I spoke to Jeremy today," he said after a few moments of comfortable silence.

"How is he?" Elena asked immediately as the amplified pain of missing her brother made her chest ache.

"He's good," Alaric said, relating the details of the conversation he'd had with the younger man. "He whined about going back to class, but I think he's secretly excited."

Elena laughed, the startling sound bubbling up unexpectedly from her throat. She couldn't remember the last time she'd really laughed. It felt good.

"And I think he's met someone."

"What?" she demanded, her eyes widening with surprise as she stared at him. "Who?"

"A girl named April," Alaric explained with a shrug. "She's in a study group with him, but don't tell him I told you. I'm sure he thought he was playing it cool."

Elena grinned as they continued to sway to the music, her heart swelling with joy for her brother. She scanned the crowd as they fell back into the companionable silence, letting her mind wander. _This is nice, _she thought idly, no pressure, no expectations, just her and her friend and…

_Damon. _

He stood by the bar, glaring at Stefan as the palpable tension between the two brothers eroded her sense of peace.

By the thunderous look on her boyfriend's face, she knew they were talking about her.

Deciding to tune into their conversation and find out what was going on, Elena made it as far as closing her eyes when a tap on her shoulder interrupted her plans. "Mind if I cut in?"

Startled, Elena dropped Alaric's hands and whirled around. A disconcerting sensation of déjà vu swept over her as she stared into deep brown eyes that were a mirror image of her own. "Katherine," she said, pursing her lips in distaste as her mood soured further. "What are you doing here?"

Alaric eyed her warily. "You want to dance with me?"

"Sorry, teach. You're cute, but no," Katherine replied, taking a step closer to Elena as her lips curved in a suggestive grin. "I want to dance with my doppelganger."

Alaric's gaze tripped between the two women. "Ah…"

"It's fine, Ric," Elena sighed, crossing her arms as she glared at the older vampire. The teacher nodded, giving Elena a supportive nod as he headed back into the main house. When he was out of earshot, she hissed. "What do you want?"

Lifting her arms, Katherine raised a brow, taking a step toward Elena as if she meant to sweep her up into a waltz. Batting the hand away, Elena huffed. "I'm not dancing with you, Katherine. Tell me what you want."

"You're no fun," Katherine replied, letting her arms fall to her sides as she dropped the beguiling act. "I don't know how Damon can stand it." Glancing over Elena's shoulder, she raised a brow. "Speaking of which, why don't we start with a little gratitude?"

"Gratitude?" Elena repeated, craning her neck to follow Katherine's gaze to the bar where Damon and Stefan were still arguing.

"For saving his eternal existence," the older vampire supplied, making Elena's blood run cold as she hesitantly turned around, facing the other woman with decidedly less hostility. "Let me guess," Katherine said, regarding Elena with a cold and measured gaze. "He hasn't told you what happened."

Swallowing, Elena shook her head. "He hasn't told me anything," she admitted, smoothing her suddenly clammy palms down the front of her dress. "I know that Landis is dead, but other than that…"

Katherine sneered. "Have you asked?"

"Of course," Elena replied defensively, shifting uncomfortably as she admitted to herself that that wasn't entirely true. She'd asked if Landis was dead and if Damon had killed him. Beyond that, however, she tried not to think about the monster during the day – she had to deal with him enough in the middle of the night. "I mean I…"

"Do you know why Stefan and I are still in town?" Katherine demanded, placing a hand on her hip.

Elena shrugged. "I haven't really thought about it." _I've been a little busy learning how _not _to rip out throats. _

"Stefan doesn't want to leave his brother until he knows that you two are going to work things out," Katherine explained, making it sound like an accusation.

"We…will," Elena replied defensively, feeling annoyed and a little violated by the knowledge that Stefan and Katherine had been analyzing her and Damon's relationship for the past two weeks. Every eye had been on her anyway, scrutinizing her every move, and now she had to add her ex-boyfriend and her five-hundred year old doppelganger to the list? _Fucking p__erfect. _"We've both been through a lot and it's just going to take time to-."

"Time?" Katherine scoffed. "I don't think you understand. He watched you _die_, Elena. When I called from South Carolina, it was to tell Stefan that he needed to find a way to let his brother go because even _I_ couldn't force someone go on in that kind of agony," she continued bluntly. "You really think Damon just needs _time _to get over that?"

Tears stung Elena's eyes as she wrapped her arms protectively around her stomach. When she'd discovered that Damon believed her dead, she'd been terrified of the possibilities – of the lengths he'd go to get revenge – and while killing himself had crossed her mind, having Katherine confirm her fears made her feel sick. "What do you want me to do?" she demanded, fighting to keep her voice steady. "He won't let me get close. He's been holding me at arm's length for two weeks. He's not even sleeping in the same bed with me."

"Well, then there's your answer," Katherine said with a shrug. "Seduce him."

Elena blinked. "What?" she demanded. "Have you been listening to me at all? He doesn't want-."

"Doesn't want _what_?" the older vampire asked, chuckling derisively as she closed the space between them to mere inches. Gazing over Elena's shoulder, she continued. "Damon hasn't been able to take his eyes off of you all night. He's staring at you so hard right now that I'm surprised you haven't gone up in flames. Keep telling yourself that he's just looking out for you, but that's not what I see."

Elena swallowed as heat flooded her entire body. Unable to help herself, she asked. "What do you see?"

"He wants you, Elena," Katherine replied, her eyes flashing with triumph as she smirked. "He wants you so badly that if he wasn't twisted up with guilt he'd already have you stripped naked but for those sexy little heels while he showed you _exactly _what it means to fuck like a vampire."

Biting her lip hard enough to draw blood, Elena closed her eyes and fought with everything she had to keep it together while the illicit images that the older vampire's words evoked made her overly sensitive body pulse with desire. "Don't," she begged, struggling to keep her voice even.

"Damon was an amazing lover," Katherine continued, her voice taking on a dreamy quality as she ignored Elena's tortured plea. "Even as a human he made my top ten," she paused, considering. "Maybe my top five."

"Oh, my god," Elena groaned, scrambling to reign in her raging libido as Katherine continued to deliberately goad her.

"He had this thing that he did with his tongue-."

"Katherine, stop," Elena cried, opening her eyes as her cheeks burned with lust, anger and a healthy dose of jealousy. Knowing about Katherine's past with the Salvatores was one thing – hearing the details straight from the bitch's mouth was something else entirely. "I'm not using sex as a weapon."

"Don't be so overdramatic," Katherine retorted, rolling her eyes as she took a merciful step backwards. "I know that you're a bit of a prude and using sex as a tool probably sounds all evil and slutty and something you would _never ever do_, but trust me. Of all of the walls that the two of you have built up, sex is going to be the easiest one to bring down. And once it's down – once Damon is all vulnerable and you've fucked away some of that tension he's wearing like a goddamn suit of armor – then you talk and bring down the other ones so that I can get the fuck out of this town."

"Oh, of course," Elena sneered, finding some of her footing now that her doppelganger had given her room to breathe. "This is all about _you_, Katherine. Just like always."

"Who cares who it's about if you and Damon get over yourselves and get back to normal?" Katherine replied, challenge glinting in her eyes despite her casual posture. "Look, if your hatred of me is more important than your relationship with Damon, then fine. Don't take my advice." Plucking a glass of champagne from the tray of a passing waiter, the older vampire took a sip and began to walk away. Elena's shoulder's sagged in relief, but the moment was short lived as Katherine murmured a final warning directly into her ear. "But wouldn't that be a tragedy? You lose the most important thing in the world to you out of pride."

Elena felt, rather than saw Katherine saunter away, her dominating, larger-than-life presence lingering long after the sound of her footsteps blended into the noise of the party. Standing in the middle of the dance floor Elena struggled to come to grips with the blunt reality of the older vampire's words.

Seduce Damon. Use sex to get what she wanted. Elena had to admit that the idea sounded appealing, although she didn't have Katherine's confidence that it would work to bring down the walls keeping her and her boyfriend apart.

But being with Damon again? Elena's eyelids drifted shut as she brought her fingers to her lips and nearly melted into a puddle on the floor. Absolutely nothing sounded better than that. Whether it solved their problems or not, at least Katherine wouldn't be able to say 'I told you so'.

Squaring her shoulders with a new sense of determination, Elena opened her eyes and turned around, intent on going over to the bar and dragging Damon upstairs into one of the many guest bedrooms on the Lockwood estate – although, truth be told, in that moment, she'd settle for a coat closet.

She didn't get very far.

"Damon," she said, surprised to find him standing right in front of her. "H-hi."

"Hi," he replied, the corners of his mouth lifting in a hint of a smile. Elena stared at him, overwhelmed by the intensity of his blue-eyed gaze, the scent of his cologne, the perfection of his black suit and black button down shirt underneath. The open collar exposed a bare patch of skin at the hollow of his throat, making her mouth water as she imagined pressing her lips to that spot and tasting him. She wanted him to touch her, to take her in his arms and just…_consume_ her so that she wouldn't have to think anymore, wouldn't have to worry about the bloodlust or her control or whether or not she was going to make it through the day without ripping anyone she loved to shreds.

She just wanted to be with him, but her throat was too dry, her body buzzing too hard and her brain too scattered for her to say a word.

As usual, Damon saved her, holding out his hand and tentatively asking. "Do you want to dance?"

Accepting his offer with a trembling hand, Elena nodded. "Yes."


	22. Any Means Necessary

_AN: Sorry for the extra couple days wait I put you through - especially to those of you who follow me on twitter/tumblr and had to suffer through my beta and I talking about the chapter. Hopefully, this now lives up to the hype. For those of you who felt led astray by my author's note on the last chapter, I'm making up for it in this one. I promise. _

_Thank you so so much for the reviews! I owe you some replies. I promise I haven't forgotten. Enjoy and let me know what you think!_

Chapter Twenty-Two – Any Means Necessary

Hyper-aware of every move that Damon made, Elena followed him into the shadows on the far side of the dance floor, her heightened senses buzzing in anticipation. Stepping into his arms as the party faded into the background, she wrapped her arm around his shoulders and gripped his hand. She hadn't decided if she was going to listen to Katherine's advice or not, but she was determined to enjoy every second of their dance.

Holding her gaze, Damon brushed his fingertips down her spine, settling his hand against the bare skin of her lower back. She sucked in a breath at the electrifying touch, shivering with immediate arousal and leaning closer to rest her chin on his shoulder, her blood rushing through her veins, drowning out the softly playing music, as he began to lead her in a waltz.

"How are you doing?" he asked a moment later, his breath stirring the fine hairs at her temple. Elena hesitated as she fought to calm her racing heart and banish the feelings of giddiness that were making her feel like a fifteen-year-old at her first high school dance. Despite what had happened over the past three weeks, this was still Damon –still the same man she'd been in love with for three years, the same man she'd planned on being with forever – and she was tired of feeling awkward and unsure around him.

Pulling back, she ignored the guarded look in his eyes as she forced a smile to her lips and said airily. "I haven't had to hide any bodies yet, so I think I'm doing well."

She'd expected a smile – maybe even a laugh – but Damon's expression darkened as he dropped his gaze. Elena's tenuous confidence wavered, her stomach turning as a sick feeling of dread spread throughout her body. He made no move to pull away, but she felt his withdrawal all the same, and she tightened her hold on him, returning her chin to his shoulder as she squeezed her eyes shut to fight the tears.

_This is so wrong, _she thought, clinging to him fiercely as she tried to figure out what to do. The way he was acting – unable to even joke about her transition and becoming a vampire – it wasn't _him, _wasn't them. They'd always been so in sync with each other and now they couldn't even seem to find common ground. She was tired of the distance, tired of walking on eggshells around him and constantly wondering if the reality of her becoming a vampire had changed how he felt about her.

Fucking Landis.

_This is all _his _fault, _she thought darkly, taking a rare moment to think about the psychotic vampire during her waking hours. Violent anger swept through her, making her burn with a seething hatred that she'd never felt toward anyone before – not even Klaus. She was _happy _that Landis was dead, overjoyed that Damon had been the one to kill him. Her only regret was that she hadn't been there to watch – to _help_.

The bastard deserved it for what he'd done to them.

What he was _still _doing to them.

"I miss you," she whispered, bitterness and longing bleeding into her tone. She hadn't realized she'd spoken aloud until Damon sighed.

"I miss you, too," he admitted, his voice thick with regret and a hopelessness that reached inside of her, squeezing her heart until she thought it would burst. A hot tear slipped through her lashes, coursing a scalding path down her cheek. _How can I fix this? _she wondered desperately, imagining him slipping away even as she clung to him more tightly than ever.

"_Seduce him."_

Katherine's deceptively simple order whispered to Elena from the corner of her mind, stifling her despair and fanning the flames of her lingering desire.

"_Of all of the walls that the two of you have built up, sex is going to be the easiest one to bring down."_

Opening her eyes, Elena stared into the crowd without seeing it as she considered the older vampire's words. She didn't like it, not because she was a prude – as Katherine had so snidely insinuated – but because she loathed the idea of taking her doppelganger's advice. It implied that Katherine knew a part of Damon better than her, that she had insight from their shared past that Elena didn't. A spark of jealousy flared within her – jealousy for every moment Katherine had spent with Damon – causing her to tighten her grip on her boyfriend.

_Katherine can go fuck herself_, Elena thought, stubbornly vowing to figure things out on her own. She knew Damon best – _loved _him best – and there was no one else on the planet who could tell her anything about him that she didn't already know.

"_But wouldn't that be a tragedy? You lose the most important thing in the world to you out of pride."_

_Goddammit_, Elena thought, curling her hand into a fist, unable to deny it any longer. Katherine – that smug little bitch – was right. Jealous or not, Elena had no use for pride when it came to her broken relationship. She needed _her_ Damon back and she couldn't afford to ignore any option – even if it came from _Katherine._

Pulling back, Elena looked at Damon with determination. A furrow appeared between his brows as he stared at the tear track on her cheek, but she wasn't interested in tears or the questions forming in his eyes. Dropping her gaze to his mouth, she slid her hand across his shoulder and up the back of his neck, sinking her fingers into his hair.

"Elena," he murmured, but she leaned in before he could continue, capturing his mouth and stopping his words. A jolt of electricity ran through her at the connection, traveling down her spine to simmer low in her belly. He'd kissed her since she'd turned, but they'd been quick pecks meant to soothe and comfort. Tilting her head, she teased his lips with her tongue, making her intentions perfectly clear. This kiss was about one thing – _need_.

Elena whimpered in triumph as Damon finally responded to her, slanting his mouth across hers with breathtaking intensity. A flood of pent up longing swept through her as he parted his lips, granting her access to explore his mouth with her tongue. Reveling in the familiar taste of bourbon and the unique something that was exclusively _him_, she leaned into him, bringing them into contact from thigh to chest.

Releasing her hand, Damon cupped her cheek, changing the angle and deepening the kiss. Thrilled by his response, Elena fought with him for control, using her lips and tongue to battle with his. Matching him stroke for stroke, she clutched at his shoulder, digging her fingers into the thick fabric of his suit jacket until the sound of popping seams broke through the haze of her desire. Easing her grip, the threat of ruined clothing sent her imagination into overdrive, filling her head with visions of what was waiting for her underneath all of that expensive material. She wanted to rip his jacket off, to hear buttons pop off and skitter across the dance floor as she destroyed his shirt and ran her hands over his bare chest.

The hand on her back slid lower as Damon smoothed his hand over the curve of her ass, holding her tighter against him. She could feel his growing erection pressing against her aching center, making her moan into his mouth. The simmering heat in her belly began to boil as every nerve ending in her body begged for more.

Taking his face between her hands, Elena kissed him harder, relishing the feeling of being so out of control. Somewhere on the periphery of her desire addled brain, she remembered where she was, that there were people – humans – all around her – stuffy members of the founding families that she'd known all of her life – but she didn't care. If anything, the knowledge of how public and exposed they were fanned the flames of her desire, turning her on even more.

Suddenly, she froze, tasting blood on her tongue as she realized that her fangs had descended and the heat around her eyes was blazing like a furnace. She hadn't even noticed that she'd vamped out, nor could she tell whose blood she'd tasted. The awareness sent a spark of fear through her, dampening her feverish need enough for her to pull away from Damon's mouth and bury her face against his shoulder. Clutching the lapels of his suit jacket, Elena struggled to get herself under control. Making out with her boyfriend in front of the whole town pushed the envelope, but losing control and revealing what she'd become was out of the question.

Damon's heart pounded beneath his chest as his hand slid, with seeming reluctance, from her ass to again touch the bare skin of her back. Cradling her head, he rested his cheek against her crown, swallowing audibly before he spoke. "Elena?" he asked, his breathing heavy. "Is everything-?"

"I'm fine," she insisted, willing the veins around her eyes to fade and her elongated canines to recede. She'd had plenty of experience with losing control and vamping out due to bloodlust in the past two weeks, but it hadn't occurred to her that it would happen as a result of plain, old-fashioned _lust _as well.

But it had been worth it. _Holy-fucking-shit, _she thought with a grin as her raging hormones settled down to a manageable simmer. It had been _so _worth it. Her relationship with Damon may have been bent, but, based on the rock hard outline of his cock that she could still feel through his clothes, it hadn't been broken.

Slightly embarrassed, she peeked at him as her features began to return to normal. "I guess I got a little carried away," she admitted with a small chuckle, releasing her death grip on his jacket and smoothing out the wrinkles. "We'll have to be more careful," she murmured, leaning in to brush her lips against his.

"Elena," Damon said, pulling away before she could make contact. Her good mood soured as she took in the shock and dismay on his features. "We need to stop."

"What?" she asked her embarrassment morphing into humiliation as he cupped her cheek, lightly stroking the skin beneath her eyes where the black veins were still swirling.

"We can't…do _this_," he insisted as she snapped her mouth shut and jerked away, wounded by the obvious rejection. She felt her fangs recede into her gums and knew that her eyes had returned to normal by the way Damon's shoulders sagged. Elena stared, stung by the palpable relief radiating from him as anger smothered what remained of her desire.

Relieved. He was actually _relieved. _Indignation surged through her veins just as quickly as the passion she'd experienced only moments ago. What the hell was wrong with him? He _reveled _in his vampirism, wore it like a goddamn badge of honor half of the time, and for some reason he didn't want to kiss her when she showed a little fang?

Well, fuck him.

"Why not?" Elena demanded, lifting her chin as she gazed at him defiantly. The vague fears over whether or not Damon still wanted her as a vampire resurfaced, taking focus as she waited impatiently for his response. Her bottom lip began to tremble with a jealous rage as she recalled the many times Katherine had rubbed her face in the fact that Damon had never been bothered by the veins around _her _eyes.

He'd _loved_ them.

Well, fuck _her_ too.

"Elena," Damon sighed, running his hand through his hair.

"Answer me," she demanded, curling her fingers into fists as her pulse raced and her heart pounded violently against her ribs. Heat began to gather around her eyes that had nothing to do with the sea of humans surrounding her nor good old-fashioned desire. Damon had completely doused _that_ flame with his blatant and obvious rejection of her aroused and vamped out self. No…what was causing the heat around her eyes and the sharp pain in her gums was anger – pure and intense. On some level, she knew she was being irrational, that her heightened vampire emotions were causing her to react more intensely than normal.

On the other hand…

She was done – so very _done _with the distance and the doubt. If Damon didn't want her as a vampire, then she wanted him to admit it and get it over with.

Licking his lips, he met her eye. "Because I don't -."

_Want you anymore, _Elena finished with a growl of humiliated frustration as she snapped and, pulling back her fist, threw a punch directly at Damon's face.

* * *

_Stomping on the accelerator, Damon glared through the windshield as he sped down the highway on the way to Richmond. Seething, he tried to muster up a shred of surprise that Elena had decided to turn herself over to Klaus, once again undermining his and Stefan's efforts to keep her safe and alive, but he couldn't. Hindsight being 20/20, Elena had all but told them her plan that morning._

"Elena, if we can dispel the moonstone, we can save your life," Stefan explained eagerly.

"I know," she replied softly. "Everybody keeps saying that."

What the hell is she thinking? _Damon__ wondered, clenching his jaw and grinding his teeth together as the mile markers flew by the window. He knew that Elena was tired of being the supernatural world's Most Wanted and that she was young and naïve, but even __she__ wouldn't be stupid enough to think that she could actually broker some kind of peaceful deal with a fucking Original…_

_Would she?_

_His cell phone buzzed, signaling an incoming text. Muttering in irritation, he pulled it out of his pocket and scowled at the name on the screen and the single word message._

Rose: Hurry.

Fuck you,_he thought, tossing the phone onto the passenger seat and pressing harder on the accelerator. This was all Rose's goddamn fault anyway. The vampire was five-hundred years old and she'd let a seventeen year old child with an apparent death wish talk her into chaperoning a suicide mission._

_Even worse, he was a 165 year old vampire chasing after them._

_What the hell was happening to his life? How had he managed to surround himself with the stupidest, most foolhardy people on the planet? It was like they all wanted to die._

_Barely slowing down as he passed the city limits, __the tires of the Camaro squealed in protest as he took corners at breakneck speed. Finding__ Slater's apartment easily __based on the directions Rose had texted him__, __he screeched__ to a stop in front of the entrance, __and ripped the key__ from the ignition in his haste to get in, grab Elena and get her back to Mystic Falls so that he could bring an end to this incredibly_ stupid_day._

_Abandoning his usual efforts to appear human, Damon moved with stealth and grace as he blurred inside of the building and took the stairs to Slater's floor. The door opened silently on well-oiled hinges and suddenly Elena was there, standing with her back to him as she innocently and obliviously drank a glass of water. Damon's temper spiked as he approached her, noting how easy it would be to sneak up behind her and snap her neck or drain her dry before the glass slipped from her fingers and hit the floor._

I swear to fucking god,_he thought as he stood behind her__,__ glowering at the back of her head. He should have left town when he had the chance, but no, he had to go __and let his fucking emotions dictate his actions._

_Loving Elena Gilbert was the single most stupid thing ever._

_Finally, Elena turned around, gasping and reeling back upon seeing him standing before her. The genuine shock in her expression ignited his protective instincts, making him want to take her into his arms and shield her from the world._

"_What are you doing here?" he demanded instead, holding onto his frustration as he stared hard and wished that he could pin her down to one spot by sheer force of will._

"_What are_ you_doing here?" she asked breathlessly as Rose entered the room. Damon could picture her expression of betrayal as she whirled around and addressed the older vampire. "You called him?"_

"_I'm sorry, Elena," Rose replied with far more sincerity than Elena deserved._

"_You said you understood," she cried in accusation._

"_She lied," Damon snapped, ignoring Rose's injured look as Elena turned back around and appraised him with wary apprehension._

"_Damon Salvatore."_

_Damon's gaze flickered over Elena's shoulder at the sudden movement of another human in the room. On a normal day, he appreciated hearing his name spoken with such awed reverence, but he was in no mood to deal with a vampire groupie. Sneering at Rose, he ordered. "Get rid of her."_

"_No way," the overly made up brunette exclaimed as Rose grabbed her arm and hauled her into the bedroom, closing the door behind them._

Finally, _he thought._ Silence_._

"_Come on, we're leaving," Damon announced, leaving no room for argument._

_Not that that ever stopped Elena._

"_No," she said, lifting her chin stubbornly._

"_I said we're_ leaving_._"

"_I'm not going with you," she insisted, displaying the defiance that he normally admired, but at the moment was grating on his nerves._

"_You don't get to make decisions anymore," he declared hotly._

"_When have I ever made a decision?" she scoffed. "You and Stefan do that for me. Now this…this is my decision."_

Her decision to what? _he wondered, momentarily speechless over her utter lack of self-preservation or common fucking sense. Frowning, he asked. "Who__'s__ going to save your life while you're out making_ decisions_?"_

"_You're not listening to me, Damon. I don't_ want_to be saved," she __announced__, surprising both of them with her outburst. His frown deepened as he stared at her in disbelief. She didn't_ want_to be saved?_

What the ever-loving-fuck?

_Lowering her lashes for a moment, she struggled to hold his gaze. "Not if it means that Klaus is going to kill every single person that I love."_

_Narrowing his eyes, Damon stared. He'd been right – Elena had a literal death wish. On a certain level he appreciated the fact that she felt helpless and didn't want people to die on her behalf. Here she was, young and vulnerable in the face of supernatural entities with superhuman _everything. _It had to epically suck to feel that powerless when it came to __your__ own destiny._

_On the other hand – She needed to get the fuck over herself._

"_Get your ass out the door before I throw you over my shoulder and carry you out myself," he ordered quietly, meaning every word as he grabbed her arm. He'd be damned if he let her spit in the face of all her family and friends who were literally risking their lives to keep her safe. Where the hell did she get off deciding that she wasn't worth their effort –_ his_effort?_

"_No," Elena argued, yanking out of his grasp as he grabbed her other arm. His gaze never left hers as she struggled against him, pulling back her arm and swinging at him with a wild fist that he caught without thinking._

Not today.

_Tightening his grip on her closed fist as she gasped and stared in surprise at their violently joined hands, he acknowledged one thing. He loved her – even now, when he was so mad at her that he could barely think straight, he burned for her in a way that scared the shit out of him – but he was not letting her have this one. She'd slapped him before – would probably slap him again because he deserved it for being a crude asshole – but he refused to take a fist to the face for having the audacity to want her alive._

_Elena's eyes widened, her pupils dilating as he leaned in, filling her field of vision. He could hear the blood and adrenaline rushing through her veins, feel her wild heartbeat thundering through her body as she tried to pull her hand away. Fear radiated from her, along with an underlying excitement and arousal that she would die rather than admit to._

_Her short, tortured breaths whispered against his lips as he dropped his gaze to her mouth and knew the exact moment that she did the same. He almost smiled at the truth that she couldn't avoid. It might be Stefan – it might_ always _be Stefan – that she loved, but Damon knew that she wanted _him_, too. Sometimes the knowledge that he could turn her on and wind her up like a fucking toy was the only thing that got him through the day. He may never have her the way he wanted her, but he'd always have that._

_And it was days like today, days where fear for her and anger _towards_ her—for wanting her, loving her, and hating her all warred for the same bit of soul that he had left—that it made all the fucking difference in the world._

"_Don't ever do that again," he warned, his voice hard and deadly with double intent in the silent apartment. He'd been around for a long time and he would not allow this little_ girl_to run the show or throw a punch at him because she didn't get her way. In love with her or not, there was no negotiating on this point – whether she went along with the plan or not, Damon was going to keep her alive. He was done_ trying _to control her – if he had to throw her in the cell in the basement until they'd found a way to destroy Klaus, he'd do it._

_He was done watching her try to throw her life away._

* * *

Damon heard something snap as he stumbled backwards, bringing a hand to his potentially broken jaw as he gazed at Elena in wonder. She'd hit him. She'd actually _hit _him.

Sonofabitch.

Part of him was proud that she'd been fast enough to surprise him. To catch him off guard enough that her wild swing actually landed.

A bigger part of him – the part currently roaring in pain as his bones shifted and began to heal – was fucking pissed.

_Sonofabitch._

"What the hell was that for?" he demanded, regaining his footing as he glared at her. He wasn't sure who he was more upset with – himself for getting her worked up to the point where she'd lost control and vamped out or her for thanking him for his efforts with a fist to the face. The last time she'd tried to punch him, he'd vowed that it would never happen again – of course at the time, he'd hated her almost as much as he'd loved her and she'd been very, _very _human, but still…he hadn't missed the way she used to reject his efforts to protect her with her fists. Before she'd turned it had just been annoying – now it actually hurt.

"What was that _for_?" she repeated incredulously, the veins around her eyes rising to the surface like writhing black snakes as her emotions spun out of control. Covering her face with her hands, she shook her head once, swallowing hard. When she looked at him again, the veins had disappeared, but her fury hadn't dissipated. Curling her trembling hands into fists, she uttered. "Go to hell, Damon."

Then she disappeared, blurring away toward the woods that surrounded the Lockwood Estate. A full five seconds passed as Damon stared at her in dumbfounded shock before he came to his senses and took off after her.

* * *

Lounging against the bar, Katherine stirred her drink and smirked as she watched Damon and Elena from a distance. Unable to hear their conversation, she nonetheless gave herself a mental pat on the back when they started dancing, taking it as a sign that the negotiations were moving in the right direction.

_Job well done,_ she thought, raising a brow as she observed Elena summoning her courage and attacking Damon with her lips. Taking a congratulatory sip of her drink, Katherine watched with voyeuristic curiosity as the kiss grew more passionate.

_I'll be damned, _she thought with approval as Elena's intentions to seduce and destroy became crystal clear. _I didn't think my perfect little doppelganger had it in her._

Suddenly, Elena pulled away, burying her face in Damon's shoulder. Katherine frowned as the mood shifted, able to sense the tension between the couple from across the room. A moment later, her jaw dropped in shock as Elena drew back her fist, leveling Damon with a punch to the jaw that actually sent him reeling. Wearing an expression of open-mouthed wonder, Katherine stared as the new vampire blurred out of sight with Damon following a few seconds later.

_Well, that was unexpected._

"Hey," Stefan said, melting out of the shadows to appear at her side. She leaned into him as he slipped an arm around her waist and brushed his lips against her temple.

"You just missed the floor show," Katherine murmured, filling Stefan in on what had transpired between Damon and Elena.

"She actually punched him?" Stefan asked incredulously, his eyes sparkling as he grinned.

"She did," Katherine replied with a nod of satisfaction. "Hopefully, it woke both of them up. Now they can fight and fuck and get over themselves," she continued, setting her drink on the bar as she turned into Stefan's embrace and slipped her hands beneath his suit jacket. Sliding them over his chest, she rose up on her toes and kissed him, letting her lips graze his as she added. "And we can get the hell out of Mystic Falls."

"You sound awfully confident that this fight is going to have a happy ending," Stefan said, pulling away just far enough to meet her gaze.

"Did you miss the part where they nearly ripped each other's clothes off and went at it on the dance floor?" she asked, raising a brow. "This is going to work, Stefan, don't rain on my parade."

"I wouldn't dream of it," he promised, dipping his head to capture her lips in a deeper kiss. Katherine moaned into his mouth, sinking into the kiss and reveling in the way he tasted and the places her skin burned where he touched her. She'd enjoyed three years of having him like this whenever she wanted and she still felt like she'd won the goddamn lottery every time.

Shifting his attention, Stefan abandoned her lips in favor of lavishing her jaw with a trail of open-mouthed kisses all the way up to the sensitive spot behind her ear. Katherine sucked in a sharp breath, ready to suggest that they go find a guestroom, when someone behind her cleared their throat impatiently.

"Sorry to interrupt you two while you're…_whatever,_" Caroline said, waving her hand dismissively as Katherine glared over her shoulder at the other vampire and Stefan ceased his worship with his lips. "But I can't find Elena."

"She ran away," Katherine snapped, turning back to Stefan and attempting to pick up right where they had left off.

"What?" Caroline demanded shrilly.

"She and Damon got into a fight," Stefan explained, artfully fending off Katherine's advances. "She punched him and ran off toward the woods. Damon went after her."

"Oh," Caroline said, frowning as she glanced over her shoulder toward the trees. A moment later, understanding dawned and her expression cleared as she turned back to them with a wide grin. "_Oh._"

"Right," Katherine said, unable to contain her annoyance as she glared at the blonde vampire. "Damon's with her. Everything's fine. Go away."

Rolling her eyes, Caroline flashed Stefan a smile before turning around and slipping back into host mode. Katherine waited until she'd disappeared into the crowd before facing Stefan and nipping his bottom lip playfully. "Now, where were we…?"

"I was about to suggest that we get out of here," he said, resting his hands at the small of her back.

"I like the sound of that," she agreed, smoothing her hands up his chest and neck to run her fingers through his hair as she kissed him. Arching into him suggestively, her nerve endings sang where they touched, heat and desire pooling low in her belly as his grip on her hips tightened. "But let's find a hotel," she whispered breathlessly as they came apart. Whatever happened between Damon and Elena, she didn't want to share the Salvatore house with them that night.

_There are some things, _Katherine thought, taking Stefan's hand and letting him guide her back through the Lockwood mansion. _That you just can't _unhear_._

* * *

Damon crashed through the underbrush as he tracked Elena through the woods, easily following her scent. Bushes and low-hanging branches ripped at him, snagging his suit jacket as he raced through the darkness, but he hardly noticed. He needed to get to Elena, to stop her before she did something she couldn't take back.

_At least she ran away from the party, _he thought, focusing on the potential dangers that a new vampire could wreak on Mystic Falls rather than the reason Elena had gotten so upset in the first place. He could deal with that later – for now, he needed to make sure she was safe.

The nighttime symphony of the nocturnal animals had fallen silent due to the predators in their midst, making it easier to track her. Damon heard her before he saw her, the sound of snapping twigs and rustling leaves easily carrying through the quiet forest.

Elena was fast – surprisingly so – but he was faster. She'd made it less than two miles before he tackled her from behind, taking her down to the forest floor in a tangle of limbs.

"Get off of me," Elena cried, pummeling him with her fists before he'd had a chance to catch his breath. Her knee caught him in the stomach, the heel of her shoe digging into his calf. _How the hell had she kept those damn things on? _he wondered as she railed against him."Leave me alone, Damon."

"Like hell," he snarled, grabbing hold of both of her wrists and flipping her onto her back. Slamming her wrists into the ground, he straddled her petite frame, planting a knee on either side of her hips and sitting back on her thighs to keep her still. Despite his superior strength, she continued to fight against him, kicking her feet and tugging on her arms. "Calm the fuck down, Elena."

The scent of the forest, of earthy decay and fresh growth, enveloped them, while the moon peeked through the trees as the wind stirred the leaves. He caught a glimpse of her face – all black veins and sharp teeth – before she squeezed her eyes shut and turned her head, pressing her face into her arm as he held it above her head. Several moments passed as she quit moving, the forest deathly still around them.

"There," she snapped after the veins had receded and her canines had returned to normal. Her eyes flashed as she glared at him defiantly. "I'm calm. Now get off of me."

"No," he retorted, narrowing his eyes as he tightened his grip on her wrists.

"Goddammit, Damon, I'm fucking calm," Elena cursed, jabbing a finger awkwardly at the top of her head even though he still had her arms pinned to the ground. "See? No veins, no teeth. I'm fine."

"Fine? You broke my jaw and took off like a goddamn Olympic sprinter," Damon argued. "You're not fine, Elena. You're-"

"What?" she challenged as the moonlight played over her features, highlighting the sheen of tears hanging from her lashes and the fury in her eyes. "Out of control? I ran _away _from the party full of humans, Damon. That sounds pretty _in _control to me. Now get. Off."

She tugged violently on her arms and this time – unable to argue with her logic – he let her go. Sitting back on his heels, he reached for her arm to help her up, but she batted his hands away.

"I can do it," she muttered, pushing herself to a seated position. Rolling his eyes, Damon got to his feet, somehow resisting the urge to pick the bits of leaves and twigs from her hair as she found her footing in the stilts she called heels.

Surprisingly, Elena didn't run the second she regained her equilibrium. Taking a deep breath, she braced her hands on her hips, turning away from him and teasing him with that gorgeous expanse of bare skin – still tantalizing despite the jagged cuts and bruises from their physical altercation. Damon's concern at seeing her hurt outweighed his hormones as he watched the wounds heal right before his eyes, leaving her perfect aside from the tense set of her shoulders and the anger radiating off of her in waves.

_Nice fucking work, Salvatore, _he thought, shaking his head. She'd held onto her control all evening and the second she'd let her guard down – his fault, really, considering the way he'd fucking groped her in the middle of the dance floor – he'd reacted as if she'd taken a bite out of the Mayor. He hadn't been feeding her a line all of the times he'd told her how well she was doing. The fact that she hadn't killed anyone yet was nothing short of a miracle.

"Shit," Damon muttered, running a hand through his hair before taking a step toward her. "Elena, I'm sorry."

Laughing bitterly, Elena turned toward him as she began dismantling her ruined hairdo. "You're sorry? For what, Damon?" she asked sarcastically, shooting him a scathing glance as she flung hair pins onto the forest floor. "What could you possibly have to be sorry for?"

_Clearly a lot, _he thought raising a brow at the hostility in her gaze. "Where should I start?"

"How about the mixed signals," she replied immediately, as if she'd just been waiting for the opportunity. "The way you're glued to my side in public but the second we get home you fucking disappear?"

Wincing at the blunt appraisal, Damon tipped his head in acknowledgement. "Okay, there's that-."

"What about the way you're not sleeping with me?" she continued, balancing precariously on the leopard print heels as she advanced on him. "Are you _sorry _for that? For the way you're never there in the morning when I wake up?"

Cursing under his breath, Damon clenched his jaw. He hadn't realized that she'd noticed. "Elena-."

"The glass of blood is sweet, but it's a lame ass substitute for you," she said, making it clear that she had no intention of letting him speak. Shaking out her hair as she ruined Caroline's work, Elena's eyes flashed mockingly in the moonlight as it filtered through the trees. "Oh, I know! You're sorry for having to spend every goddamn day babysitting me to make sure I don't lose it and kill the entire town, right?"

"Babysitting?" he demanded, bristling at the belittling implication that he'd consider it some kind of chore to help her figure out how to be a vampire. That had always been their plan – that he'd guide her through the transition.

"Well, you know what, Damon?" Elena asked, bracing her hands on her hips as she stood toe-to-toe with him in the middle of the forest. "_I'm_ sorry. I'm sorry that I haven't lived up to your expectations. I'm _so _sorry that my transition hasn't gone as quickly as you wanted it to-."

"That's complete bullshit," he muttered as she continued to steamroll over his attempts to speak.

"I'm so fucking sorry that I couldn't be the perfect little vampire back there at the party," she snapped, her eyes burning with fury as each 'sorry' became more derisive and snide. "I'm sorry I showed a little fang, but in my defense that was your hand on my ass and your tongue down my throat and that wasn't fucking _blood_lust, Damon, that was…" Elena paused, drawing a ragged breath and closing her eyes briefly as she struggled to reign in her fury. Glaring at him, her gaze cold and hard, she asked quietly. "Do you have a problem with me being a vampire?"

"Excuse me?" Damon demanded, blinking at the abrupt change in topic.

"I saw the look on your face when we were kissing and I vamped out. You were horrified. What, it didn't bother you with Katherine, but you can't stand it with me?" she asked disgustedly, without a hint of self-pity. "Do you not want me now? Do I just not _do _it for you anymore?"

"Are you fucking kidding me?" he asked, grabbing her by the upper arms and hauling her against his chest.

"You loved her, Damon," Elena said, making it sound like an accusation as she met his gaze without wavering. "God, Katherine loves reminding me of that. She _loves _rubbing my face in how you worshipped the ground she walked on even after you found out what she really was and pined for her for over one hundred and fifty years."

"Where the hell is this coming from?" Damon asked incredulously, seething at having his past – his irrelevant fucking past – thrown in his face. Elena had a laundry list of legitimate reasons to be pissed at him and she was dwelling on ancient history. This was the most irrational bunch of bullshit that he'd ever heard in all of their many arguments over the years, and goddammit, he was going to tell her so. "Are you seriously jealous of _Katherine, _right now?"

"I want to know why it's different with me," Elena insisted, avoiding the question as she shook out of his grasp and pointed to her face. "Why are the fangs and the veins around _my_ eyes a problem for you when it never bothered you with anybody else? Am I…am I too much like Katherine now?"

"What the fuck are you-."

"Does it remind you of her when I let the fangs show?" she demanded, ignoring his dumbfounded expression as he stared at her like she'd lost her goddamn mind. "Do you look at me and think of all of the ways she screwed with your head back in the day? Well, fuck you if all you can see when you look at me is _her._"

Suddenly drained of her anger – or overwhelmed by the sorrow of their situation – tears flooded Elena's eyes as her lower lip trembled and the rest of her face threatened to crumble with emotion. Shaking her head, she clenched her jaw and looked away. "God, if this is how it's going to be between us now, I never should have transitioned."

Damon tensed as his heart literally stopped for a moment before it resumed beating sluggishly in his chest.

"What did you just say?" he demanded quietly, stunned by the twist the argument had taken.

She couldn't possibly _believe_ that…

Elena glanced at him, the moonlight reflecting off of the tears on her cheeks before she wiped them away defiantly. "You heard me."

Damon snapped.

Grabbing Elena by the shoulders, he whipped her around, pinning her to the nearest tree. He deserved her anger – he'd inadvertently been a self-centered asshole for the past two weeks – and he'd take her misplaced jealousy over Katherine. If he was honest, it was nice not to be on the receiving end of that particular emotion for once.

But he'd be damned if he let her hurt him with the one goddamn silver lining he'd had to cling to in this whole mess.

_Fuck this._

_Fuck _her.

Claiming Elena's mouth before she could draw a breath, Damon kissed her, pouring every ounce of pent up desire and longing into the connection. In the past three weeks he'd fucked up in more ways than he'd ever thought possible, but he'd never once considered leaving her. She'd turned for him – in spite of all of the ways he'd failed her, she'd still gone through with the transition and he wasn't about to let her regret that.

If she wouldn't let him _tell _her that, then he'd show her.

Pressing her lips together in protest, Elena resisted at first, refusing to soften until he changed the angle of attack, scrapping his teeth over her bottom lip. He smirked in victory as she gasped, parting her lips so that he could claim her once again.

She tasted like sex and blood and heaven as he explored the familiar contours of her mouth with his tongue, groaning with pleasure as she arched against him, pressing her hip into his growing erection. _Growing my ass, _he thought as she smoothed her hands up his chest and around his neck. He was hard as fucking steel and he wanted nothing more than to shove her dress above her hips and bury himself inside of her, but there was something Elena needed to understand first.

Dragging his hands down the sides of her body, Damon grabbed her ass, separating her legs with his knee and hauling her against him. With a throaty moan that shot straight to his groin, Elena sank her fingers into his hair, parting her lips to take him deeper into her mouth. The forest echoed with the sound of their heavy breathing and he could feel her – hot and wet and throbbing – against his thigh as he continued to kiss her, using every trick he had to push her quickly to the brink of release.

"Damon," she gasped, mewling like a kitten as he trailed a path of open mouthed kisses over her jaw and down the smooth column of her throat. Letting his canines descend, he nipped at her neck, smirking in satisfaction as she cried out and rolled her hips against his thigh.

"Look at me," he said, panting as he lifted his head and let the heat flare around his eyes. After one-hundred and fifty years, he could control the reaction without a second thought, but it was always there, simmering beneath the surface. "Elena…_look_ at me."

"Damon, I…I can't," she replied, curling her fingers into fists in his hair as she tried to coax his mouth back to hers. She kept her lids squeezed shut, but she couldn't hide the writhing veins around her eyes or the flash of fang in the moonlight. "Just kiss me…Please. Don't stop."

Biting back a groan, Damon fought the urge to do exactly as she asked – because _goddamn, _he wanted to kiss her until the end of fucking time – instead taking her chin between his thumb and forefinger, and demanding, "Elena, open your eyes."

Swallowing, she did as he asked, lifting her lashes and gasping in surprise upon meeting his identical black gaze. Damon's heart twisted at the apprehension he saw within the swirling depths of her eyes. He wanted to shake her, to strangle her for having the audacity to compare herself to _Katherine_, for thinking that the reality of her vampirism had affected his feelings for her.

There was no way she could have known otherwise, however, no way she could have guessed that the black veins standing out in stark relief against her skin and the swirling bloodlust flashing in her eyes was such a fucking turn on that he'd nearly laid her out on top of the counter in his bathroom and had his way with her the night he'd returned from South Caroline.

She couldn't have known because he'd never fucking told her.

She was everything he ever fucking wanted.

Everything he'd ever fucking dreamed.

He owed her pretty words – poetry and goddamn Shakespeare – for the hell they'd both survived, but in the heat of the moment his brain was only capable of blunt truth. Reaching for her, he took one of her hands, bringing it down between them to cup his hard, aching cock through his pants. He held it there as he kissed her, groaning into her mouth and pressing against her as she stroked him with a familiar touch. Tearing his mouth away from hers, he stared directly into her black eyes as he panted. "Does it feel like I don't want you anymore?"

Elena hesitated, squeezing him lightly as she searched his face. In the shifting moonlight, he caught a gleam in her eye and the hint of a familiar grin as she leaned forward and flicked her tongue over the shell of his ear before whispering. "Shut up and prove it."

Pulling back, Damon kissed her again, hard and fast, as his fangs scrapped against her lips and tongue. Elena released his cock, focusing her attention on undressing him, pushing his suit jacket off of his shoulders as he finally gave in to temptation and shoved the hem of her dress above her hips. Running his hand down the back of her bare thigh, he lifted her leg, thrusting against her intimately as he pressed her bare back against the rough bark of the tree hard enough to draw blood.

Elena hissed as the bark cut into her flesh, but she didn't pause in her efforts, stripping the jacket completely off and tossing it to the forest floor without ceremony. He worshipped the tantalizing valley between her breasts as she tugged his shirt out of his pants and tore it open, sending half of the buttons flying into the underbrush. Dragging her nails up his chest, she sank her fingers into his hair, tugging him back up so that she could kiss him again.

Grinning into the kiss as she claimed his lips, Damon sank into the connection, letting it build until it overpowered everything else. She was insatiable, her hands burning him wherever she touched him as her lips blazed a scorching path of desire across his skin. There was nothing in his world but Elena, nothing but her mouth moving over his, her body, vibrant and alive in his arms and her scent enveloping and overwhelming his senses.

Threading his fingers through her hair, Damon cradled the back of Elena's head as she kissed the pulse point just below his jaw, her hands fighting with his belt buckle. He felt a sharp stab of pain as Elena froze in his arms, her hot breath bathing his broken skin as the scent of blood pierced through the haze of desire.

"Elena?" Damon frowned, pulling back far enough to see her face. She was staring at his neck, eyes wide and black in the moonlight as she reached out with a single finger and trailed it down the column of his throat.

"Damon…you're bleeding," she whispered, her voice hoarse and strained as she gazed at her bloodstained finger in wonder. The pieces began to fall into place as she dragged her gaze to his face, staring at him in a mixture of shock and awe. "I…bit you."

Biting back a groan at the tortured admission, he felt his knees weaken as his cock throbbed at the erotic image of Elena sinking her teeth into his skin. Bracing a hand above her head against the tree he managed to stand his ground as he swallowed. "Yeah, you did."

"But I…," she trailed off, squeezing her eyes shut as her body began to tremble in his arms. "I'm not…supposed to…Oh, god."

Damon's heart broke at the uncertainty and confusion in Elena's voice – even now, with him, she was fighting to stay in control. He didn't want her that way, he wanted her wild and uninhibited – the way she'd always been with him.

"Remember when you asked me if vampires could drink from each other?" he asked, impulsively ripping the sleeve of her dress from her wrist to her elbow before she could say a word. The surprise move brought her attention back to him and he held her gaze as he brought her wrist to his lips. Kissing the delicate skin, he parted his lips, scrapping the sharp points of his fangs across the pulse point until her breath caught and her chest heaved. She whimpered as he bit down, piercing the skin and tasting her blood for the first time since she'd turned.

Her blood was thinner, the flavor slightly muted, but it was still Elena – still everything that he remembered from the last time they'd been together. Her response was even better than the taste – her whimpers became moans as her blood coated his tongue, making his cock throb as she writhed in his arms and clutched at him with her free hand in an attempt to drag him closer.

Long before he was ready, Damon relinquished her wrist, kissing her with bloodstained lips and teasing her mouth open so that she could get a taste of the warm, fresh blood. Blinded by passion and bloodlust, Elena returned the kiss, holding his face between both hands and nearly devouring him in her need. Pulling away so that he could look directly into her eyes, he licked an errant smudge of blood from the corner of her mouth and whispered. "We can."

* * *

Struggling to focus beyond the cascading mass of desires and emotions swirling through her mind and body, Elena stared at Damon. Her wrist throbbed where he'd bitten her, each pulse traveling through her, making her breasts ache and her clit throb. A part of her brain understood that Damon was trying to tell her something important, but the words didn't make sense. _We can? _she wondered, her gaze tripping over his features, returning to his lips as her mouth watered to kiss him again. _We can what?_

Tipping his head, Damon presented his throat to her like an offering, the moonlight playing over his pale skin and illuminating the smear of blood where she'd bit him.

Oh.

_Oh._

Elena's eyes widened as she tried to tear her gaze away, but instead her vision narrowed until all she could see was the smooth expanse of skin and the pulse that beat slowly through his veins.

"Do it," he insisted, slipping his hand around the back of her neck and sinking his fingers into his hair. Tugging her closer, he murmured further encouragement. "Go ahead, Elena."

Licking her lips, she leaned in, ignoring the voice in her head that screamed out warnings – she'd never done this before, she didn't know what she was doing, she'd hurt him – and pressed her face against his skin. Nuzzling his neck with her nose, she inhaled, breathing in the aroma of blood mixed with his unique scent. Bourbon and sex. Her throat ached with thirst as she let instinct take over, placing an open mouthed kiss to the spot where his shoulder and neck met.

She licked his skin, glowing with pride at the groan that escaped his lips. She could feel the length of his erection that she was pressing intimately against grow even harder as she placed the tips of her fangs against his flesh. _This turns him on, _she realized with amazement, her own desires so twisted up in each other she didn't know where the passion for Damon ended and the bloodlust began.

Making a decision, they became one and the same.

Squeezing her eyes shut, she bit down, feeling the skin give as her teeth pierced the skin and then the vein, starting in surprise as the first drops of fresh blood hit her tongue. Moaning as her brain registered the rich taste and the warmth, she took her first sip, sucking timidly at first and then with building intensity as the erotic elixir slid down her throat.

It was different than the bagged blood –alive and electrifying as it spread throughout her body. Drinking deeper, she wrapped her arms around Damon's shoulders, threading her fingers through his hair and holding him closer. She wanted all of it – all of him – everything that he had to give.

Consumed by the reality of feeding live for the first time and the added intensity of feeding from him, she barely noticed as his hands slid down her body and under the ridiculously short hem of her dress. She felt, rather than heard, the sound of seams popping as he tore the black boy shorts from her body, leaving her open and exposed to the cool night air.

Elena drank as he stroked her inner thighs, coaxing such amazing sensations from that simple touch that her attention was suddenly split evenly between the blood running down her throat and the building tension and heat between her legs. A part of her wanted to beg him to stop, certain that she'd never survive the sensory overload, but instead of speaking, she trailed her hand down his body, slipping it between them and unbuttoning his pants.

Teasing her tender flesh with excruciatingly light touches, Damon brought her to the brink of release before swiftly thrusting two fingers inside of her. Stroking her with quick, sure motions, Elena came violently, her orgasm ripping through her as she tore her mouth away from his neck and cried out her release.

She came down from the high knowing that the blood rushing through her veins was Damon's, that what she'd just experienced was only the beginning. They'd shared blood before but it was different now, more intense and intimate than anything else that had ever passed between them.

Smirking at her, Damon nipped at her swollen bottom lip. "Did you like that?"

Grinning, Elena kissed him, his blood still on her tongue, stripping his button down off of his shoulders before returning to his waist and making quick work of his zipper. Parting the folds of fabric, her fingertips brushed against his straining flesh for one brief moment before she was suddenly whipped around, her chest pressed flush against the tree.

The rough bark scraped against her tight, aching nipples, torturing her through the fabric of her dress as Damon crouched down and pressed his lips to the bare skin at the small of her back. Smiling in ecstasy, Elena bit her lip as he worked his way up her spine, kissing and caressing away the cuts and scrapes caused by the tree as they healed.

Sweeping her hair aside, he kissed the nape of her neck, pushing the sleeves of her dress over her shoulders as she pulled her arms out. The dress pooled at her waist, exposing her breasts to the night air as she wrapped an arm around Damon's neck and guided him to her throat.

"Please," she murmured, arching into him as he cupped her breasts, tweaking the nipples to even higher, tighter peaks.

"What do you want? This?" Damon asked, teasing her with his teeth before grinding his cock against her bare ass. "This?"

"All of it," she panted, pulling his hair and sucking in a sharp breath as he shifted just enough to slip inside of her in one smooth thrust. "I want all of it."

Craning her neck, Elena blindly sought out his lips as he began moving, his hand traveling down her body in lazy circles, making her gasp and break away from him as he teased her clit. Kissing his way down her throat he scraped his teeth over her skin hard enough to draw blood before giving her what she wanted and sinking his teeth into her vein. Bracing her hands against the tree for support, she pressed into him, arching her back as she met him thrust for thrust.

Damon released her, soothing the wound with his tongue as it healed, before kissing his way back up the column of her throat. Craning her neck, Elena tugged on his hair – gently, this time – as she guided his mouth to hers and tasted her blood on his lips.

Kissing him as they found their familiar rhythm, Elena felt the tight knot of anxiety loosen its grip on her heart, allowing her to relax and enjoy the moment even as she knew the war wasn't over. They'd brought down one wall, but she'd long ago come to terms with the fact that their passion for each other was a constant – even when she'd thought she hated him, she'd still wanted him with every fiber of her being. Katherine had been right – sex had been the easiest wall to circumvent and Elena had no idea what was going to happen in the morning when they came down from the erotic high, the tension between them since she'd turned having been released into the night air.

However, as she broke away from the kiss, coming apart with a cry that echoed through the still night, she vowed not to worry about what happened next as she rode the wave of her orgasm to its peak.

Pressing his hand to the small of her back, Damon bent her forward, driving into her and prolonging her orgasm as he found his own release, her name torn from his lips.

Elena had spent the last two weeks wondering if it would be different to make love to Damon as a vampire.

Standing in the middle of the woods, naked and gasping for breath as he stayed hard inside of her, Elena smiled as she realized one undeniable truth.

She was going to spend the rest of the night finding out.


	23. A Time for Every Purpose

_AN: I'm slowly catching up on reviews. Some of you probably noticed the replies to chapter 20 if you've checked your email lately. Thanks to the beta for helping me with this **very **__important chapter. It's all been building up to this. I hope you enjoy!_

Chapter Twenty-Three – A Time for Every Purpose

_Leaving Alaric to his drinking at_ The Bleeding Wolf_, Damon drove aimlessly through the streets of Mystic Falls, too agitated to go home. The teacher's words –_ more like desperate plea – _ran through his brain on a continuous loop. _

"Elena told me about Atlanta."

"She's eighteen, Damon."

"She's got a chance at a long life, man. A normal, _human_ life."

"All I'm saying is that maybe…maybe what's best for her is to end things now, before either of you get in too deep."

_Damon scowled, gripping the steering wheel tighter as he drove down Main Street. As usual, the town square was bustling with activity – this time in preparation for the Mystic Falls High School graduation ceremony – and with Tyler being one of the seniors due to cross the stage and accept his diploma, Mayor Lockwood had taken the reigns. _

_Pulling up to the curb, Damon parked the Camaro and shut off the engine, leaning back in the seat to watch the volunteers count chairs and put up awnings. Come Sunday, the center of town would be bustling with proud parents and students, all clad in identical caps and gowns. Considering the fact that the citizens of Mystic Falls had 'social responsibility' programmed into their DNA, he expected the entire town to turn out for the festivities. Family, friends, neighbors, babysitters, hell, the orthodontists who'd put on their braces in junior high would all be there to wish the graduating seniors well._

Elena's parents won't be there.

_Taken aback, Damon blinked at the sobering and unexpected thought. Elena rarely mentioned her parents anymore, although he knew she visited their graves regularly – once in a while, she'd ask him to join her, but most of the time she went with Jeremy. _

_Tapping his thumb against the steering wheel, Damon wondered if_ Elena _had thought about the fact that her parents wouldn't be at her high school graduation. She'd have family there – Jeremy, Alaric – and friends sitting on the bleachers beside her. _

And you_,__ a part of his brain reminded him, but he shoved it aside. He'd planned on being there, of course –_ before_his happy hour from hell with Alaric – but now Damon wasn't as certain. _

_He knew that he couldn't return Elena's parents to her – the car accident was one of the few awful things that had happened to her that neither he, nor the supernatural world that he lived in, was responsible for – but that didn't stop him from suddenly wishing that he could. She'd been forced to endure so much tragedy – more than most humans encountered in their entire lifetime – and she hadn't just survived, she'd _thrived_. Giving fate the proverbial finger, Elena had created a new family with Jeremy and Alaric, Bonnie and Caroline after she'd lost her parents and Jenna. She'd survived Katherine, Stefan's descent into bloodlust and ripper madness, and defeated Klaus. _

_She'd survived death itself._

_Then, after all of that, when most people would have curled up into the fetal position and hoped to die, Elena had finished high school, applied and gotten into her dream college._

_She'd learned to laugh again, to_ enjoy_ being alive. She'd done and lived so much in just the past year alone…_

_She deserved to have her goddamn parents at her high school graduation ceremony. _

_Just this once, she deserved to have something in her life that was_ normal_._

_Narrowing his eyes against the glare of the setting sun, Damon looked away from the town square._ Ric's right,_he thought as the knife of realization sliced through his heart. For some inexplicable reason, Elena loved him with an all-consuming passion that had already prompted her to give up on her plans for a normal, human life and contemplate forever with him as a vampire. He knew that it was only an idea at the moment – an appealing yet terrifying idea – but he'd seen the truth in her eyes. There would come a day when she would ask and he would comply and in the split-second that it took to snap her neck, Elena's life would be irrevocably altered._

_As long as they were together, the supernatural would intrude. Werewolves, vampires, witches – the species didn't matter, they were all a part of Damon's existence and at some point their paths would cross with his and all of the darkness in his world would eventually destroy the light and the hope in Elena's._

_Their relationship would ruin her – _he'd_ ruin her. _

_He wouldn't mean to and it would kill him, but it would happen. It wasn't a question of whether or not Elena could survive his world, it was a question of whether or not she should have to. _

_The answer was no._

_Hating everyone and everything, Damon twisted the key, gunning the engine as it roared to life before pulling away from the curb with a squeal of the tires. His cell phone buzzed with an incoming text as he ran a stop sign near the edge of the business district. Picking it up from the passenger's seat he saw Elena's name flash across the screen._

"I'm at your place. When are you coming home?"

_Swallowing pastthe lump of anxiety and dread lodged in his throat, Damon fired off a quick response. _

"Five minutes."

_Tossing the phone back onto the seat, he tore through the quiet residential streets, mulling over the best possible approach to what was going to be the worst conversation of his life. Somehow, he had to end things with Elena. He had the chance to_ really_be the better man, to do what Stefan should have done, but hadn't been able to. _

_Elena__may have__ chosen to love a vampire – to love_ him – _but Damon had a choice as well. _

_He could choose to let her go. _

_Pulling into the driveway, he parked the car and climbed out quickly, blurring toward the house as he did his best not to think about what letting Elena go really meant. He needed to spit out the words and worry about the implications later when he was three bottles deep intothe biggest drinking binge of his incredibly long existence. _

_Opening the front door, he set his keys on the table by the wall, taking a moment to listen for Elena, but he didn't need his super hearing to pick up on her heavy footsteps as she walked across the hardwood floor. Taking a deep breath, he forced his feet to carry him toward the living room. _

_Elena didn't notice him at first, giving Damon a moment to take in her familiar features. Her long hair was pulled up into a messy bun with small tendrils escaping to curl around her face in the humidity of the late May __afternoon__. Wearing denim shorts and a tank top, her naturally tanned skin practically glowed in the waning sunlight filtering through the windows. Drink in hand, she paced in front of the fireplace – even the angry scowl on her face looked beautiful._

Fuck, _Damon thought, clenching his jaw. He'd lost track of the number of times he'd tried to leave Elena, but it always came down to this moment – the moment when he had to look at her and somehow ignore the emotion he saw in her eyes. Beneath the anger, betrayal and rejection, beneath the love and desire, all __he ever saw was his own hope__,__ his own_ need_,__ reflected back at him._

Jesus fucking Christ.

_Desperately,__ he wondered how much of an ass he'd be if he broke up __with__the love of his very existence via text message. _

"_It's about time," Elena muttered, noticing him hovering in the doorway. He was fairly certain he hadn't done anything to upset her today – yet – so he wondered who the guilty party was. She'd been at the mall with Caroline and Bonnie, shopping for graduation dresses…had it been one of them?_

"_Something wrong?" he asked, amazed that the voice coming out of his mouth sounded halfway calm when the rest his body was completely on edge. _

"_You will _not_ believe what Bonnie said to me today," Elena said, taking a large sip of whatever she was drinking before gesturing wildly with the glass. "I swear to god, Damon, she's reached a new low."_

"_She must have finished her degree in Hypocritical Bitchery," he said vaguely as he worked on a new strategy. Elena hadn't stopped surprising him since the day in her kitchen when she'd acknowledged that he'd lost Katherine, too. He hadn't gotten used to falling asleep with her or waking up with her, let alone hearing her tell him that she loved him. Sometimes he still caught himself waiting for the other shoe to drop or for Stefan to return and for Elena to tell him that she'd changed her mind. _

_What Damon had gotten used to – long before they'd even become friends – was fighting with her. _

"_I always thought you were exaggerating when you said that she hated you," Elena continued, drinking and pacing as he slowly crossed the room. "But after today…you might be right."_

"_I often am__," he murmured, carefully choosing which buttons to push. _I'm a fucking coward,_he thought, knowing that if he played his cards right – if he pissed her off enough – he wouldn't have to tell her that they needed to end their relationship. _

_Elena would do it for him._

* * *

Lying on his side, Damon woke slowly, becoming aware of his surroundings one isolated detail at a time – his face buried in Elena's hair, his legs tangled with hers, one arm pillowed beneath his head, the other draped over her body, holding her close. Her hips were pressed against his, her back molded to his chest, fitting together like two puzzle pieces on the forest floor.

Squeezing his eyes shut, he fought against the immediate onslaught of regret, guilt and doubt that came with consciousness as he tried to sink back into slumber. Hewanted to go back tothe dreamless state he'd been in where Landis and his own failure hadn't existed – where everything had just been him and Elena. For a few brief moments he drifted, thinking that it might be possible, but then she moved and his eyes snapped open.

She was awake.

The grey light of predawn illuminated the forest, draining everything of color except for Elena, lying alive and vibrant in his arms. Taking his hand, she brought it to her lips, gently kissing his fingertips as she murmured. "I know you're awake."

Damon smirked, momentarily letting go of their problems as he recalled the many times he'd said the same thing to her when she'd tried to feign sleep in his arms. "How long have you been waiting to say that?"

She chuckled softly, rolling over in his arms and propping her head in her hand as she touched his cheek. "Three years," she admitted as he mirrored her pose, keeping his other arm possessively around her waist.

"Three years?" he raised a brow, trying to ignore the way his heart constricted painfully upon hearing her laugh – he couldn't remember the last time he'd heard it.

She nodded. "My motivation for wanting to turn has always been to catch you sleeping."

At loss for words, Damon got lost in her eyes, stuck on the reality of simply waking up beside her as he stroked his hand languidly up and down her back. He'd been shocked when Stefan had reminded him that it had been two weeks since she'd turned – unable to believe that so much time had passed – but now he felt every second and wondered how he could have kept his distance for so long.

_I never meant to push her away._

"Hi," he said finally, studying every line of her face as if he was seeing it for the first timeand engraving it to memory.

"Hi," she replied, her cheeks flushing pink as she dropped her gaze to his lips. Memories of the way she'd tasted, the way she'd kissed him with such bruising intensity that it had drawn blood, flitted through his mind. He wondered if she was remembering it as well, if the amazing blush staining her skin pink from the roots of her hair all the way down to the dusty tips of her bare breasts was because of what they'd done.

He hoped so.

"So," Elena said after a moment, dragging her gaze back up to his. "When you asked me to dance, I had no idea we were going to end up naked in the middle of the woods. Waking up in a pile of leaves is…new."

Damon chuckled, picking a leaf out of her tousled hair. "It doestake some getting used to."

"Oh, really?" she replied, pretending to be scandalized. "You're used to this?"

"I wouldn't say that," he admitted, cupping her jaw as he dragged his thumb over the smooth skin on her cheek. "But I've been around for awhile, Elena. This is not my first time in the forest."

"You'll have to tell me about that sometime," she said with a grin.

"Sometime I will," he promised, coaxing her closer and claiming her lips. Elena kissed him back, her mouth flowering beneath his as he wrapped his arm around her waist and rolled onto his back. She followed him without breaking contact, sliding her leg between his as she snuggled against his chest.

Basking in the ease of their connection, he kissed her slowly and thoroughly, tasting every part of her. It had been too long since they'd woken up like this, since he'd been able to enjoy the way they knew each other and fit together so goddamn well. Her body responded to his touch with the same intensity as the night before, as if she were starved for the bond and desperate to see it through.

_The night before…_

The errant fragment of thought opened the door to the guilt and regret, ushering it back to the forefront of his mind where it managed to take precedence over the amazing sensation of Elena's lips and bare skin against his. Every angry word and tearful accusation washed over him like a bucket of ice water, making it impossible to forget that although the physical distance between them had been shattered, there was still more to say – more to apologize for.

The resolution was still to come.

"Elena," he murmured between kisses, unable to find the strength to stop touching her.

"I know," she replied breathlessly, pushing herself up on her elbow for better access to his mouth. Her leg dragged up his, nudging his stiffening cock in a move that was definitely unintentional.

The _first_ time.

Groaning, he slid his hand over her hip, grabbing the back of her thigh to hold her still. He couldn't believe he was about to put on the brakes, but between Stefan's blunt words and Elena's heartbreaking confusion from only hours ago, Damon knew that he had a lot to explain. "Elena, we need to…"

She cut him off with her lips, delving her tongue into his mouth and short-circuiting his brain so completely that he had little choice but to kiss her back. His hand on her thigh shifted higher, cupping her ass as she rubbed herself against his bare hip.

She was already wet.

Jesus.

Making a decision, he tightened his grip and deepened the kiss.

They could fucking talk _later…_

Abruptly, she broke away, pressing her forehead to his cheek as she held the side of his face and whimpered in frustration. "We need to talk," she admitted, as he sank his fingers into her hair. "I know that, I just…" Swallowing audibly, she shuddered. "I miss this so much."

Waiting for his pulse and his raging hard-on to calm down, Damon held her in silence, their tortured breathing the only sounds punctuating the stillness of the forest.

"I miss you," she whispered, her voice tinged with desperation as she stroked his cheek. "I didn't know it was possible to miss someone this much."

He wanted to argue that he'd been right there, but he knew it was a lie. Sighing, he rolled back onto his side, easing her gently to the forest floor as he kept his arm pillowed beneath her head. Brushing her hair off of her face, he pressed a kiss to her forehead before gazing down at her. "I'm sorry."

"For what, Damon?" she asked, the doubt in her eyes cutting straight through him. "_What_ are you sorry for?"

_Jesus, where do I even _start_? _"I'm…sorry I sent you back to Atlanta," he said, choosing the mistake that had started the avalanche of events that had nearly destroyed them as a place to begin. "I thought it would be safer for you there, but obviously I was wrong."

A line appeared between Elena's brows. "That's what you're sorry for?"

_It's not the _only _thing, _he thought. He was sorry for pulling away, for confusing her when he'd been trying to help her. He was sorry for not being there when she woke up in transition, sorry for the cliff, and for not protecting her from Landis.

He was sorry for fucking _everything._

"If I'd kept you with me, Landis would never have had a chance to grab you," he explained, gazing down at her almost reverently. As her expertly landed punch had attested, Elena was a vampire now – infinitely stronger and able to protect herself – and Damon knew that he'd have to find a way to curb the protective instinct that made him want to wrap her in cotton and hide her from the world, but gazing into her incredible brown eyes with the memory of all they'd gone through still hauntingly close, the idea of curbing _anything_ that involved Elena's safety sounded downright ludicrous. "None of this would have happened. You'd still be human."

Tears gathered in her eyes as she stared at him silently for a long moment before pushing him away. Damon tensed, ready to chase her if she decided to run but instead she simply sat up and drew her knees to her chest. He wanted her back in his arms so badly itached, but he didn't move. He'd hurt her, he'd been the one to pull away when she needed him most.

It was time to stop being a fucking coward and _be _there for her.

So, he waited.

"Were you ever going to turn me?" she finally asked, her voice thick with emotion.

Damon blinked, unable to make sense of the words. "What?"

"You heard me," she insisted, her shoulders shaking slightly as she released a shuddery breath. "Were you ever going to turn me, Damon?" she asked, turning slightly to offer him her profile. "Or were all of your promises a bunch of lies to shut me up?"

Abruptly, he pushed himself to a seated position, studying her tearful but resolute features as he tried to figure out which question to answer first. The image of her cold, dead gaze filled his vision, reminding him of the pain of losing her. Nausea rolled through him at the thought of having to be the one to bring that death upon her – purposely throwing her life away without a guarantee that she'd come back to him.

_Fuck me, _he thought, trying to focus on the fact that she was there as he grappled with two conflicting truths. Damon had never worshiped Elena's humanity and he'd never been trying to protect her soul. From the moment he'd fallen for her, he'd fantasized about her becoming a vampire. When he'd forced his blood on her and taken the choice away from her,there had been a small part of him that had been relieved beneath the horror of his actions. As a vampire, Elena would have all of the time in the world to forgive him and to maybe realize that what was between them was real and worthy of attention.

He'd been willing to deal with that – to wait her out. When it came to matters of the heart, no one was better at patience than him and, vampire or human, as long as she was alive in some capacity, he had hope.

It hadn't happened that way, of course, and he and Elena had found their way to each other a hell of a lot faster than he could have ever dreamed. Suddenly, every single one of his fantasies had been coming true, practically falling into his lap like goddamn manna from heaven. Not only didElena want to be with him, she loved him and—the biggest mind-fuck of all – she wanted to become a vampire and be with him forever. He'd been given the chance to literally have it all and there was just one catch…

He had to kill her to make it happen.

"I don't know," Damon admitted finally, hating his weakness and the fact that he was contradicting a promise he'd made to her. "But I never lied to you. I meant what I said, I want you with me forever. I've always wanted that, it's just…fuck, Elena. Killing you? I don't know if I ever would have been _ready_ to do that."

A spark of gratitude to Landis for taking the decision out of his hands snuck up on him, blindsiding him with an immediate surge of guilt and anger as he was reminded of what his indecision had cost her. "Then again, if I'd turned you on your birthday like you'd asked, none of this would have happened."

"You don't know that," Elena said softly, staring into the trees. "And…I'm kind of glad that you didn't."

Damon gaped at her in the silence that followed, utterly dumbfounded and certain that his jaw was literally on the forest floor.

"_What?_" he demanded, positive that this time he really _had_ heard her wrong. Elena couldn't possibly have said that she was glad that she'd been kidnapped, tortured and ultimately killed by a sadistic vampire.

"Don't get me wrong. I could have done without the compulsion and the kidnapping and the torture," she admitted, her voice breaking even as she cracked a weak smile. Resolutely, she met his gaze, reaching for him and running her fingers through his hair before settling her hand at the nape of his neck. "Being thrown off of a cliff isn't something I ever need to have happen again, but I'm glad that Landis took the decision out of our hands. I'm so glad that you didn't have to help me turn."

"Elena, what the hell are you talking about?" he asked, wondering how his attempts at an apology had turned into something that felt a lot like absolution.

Not that he wasn't counting the fucking _seconds _until they could put the past three weeks of hell behind them.

"I didn't understand…this," she said, sitting up and gesturing toward herself as she turned bodily toward him. "Being a vampire, I mean. You, Stefan, Caroline…you all talked about the heightened senses and emotions and how hard it was to handle and I thought that I understood." Her gaze darkened, turning inward as she continued. "But then I woke up and you were gone and no one could tell me if you were alive or dead and I…It was like the worst fear I'd ever experienced as a human multiplied by a thousand. Every breath hurt, every thought was about you and what I could do to reach you, what I would do if I _couldn't _reach you, what would happen to me if…if you didn't come back. I think the only thing that kept me sane was going through the transition and having to focus on not _eating _my family.

"Then you came back and I thought my heart was going to literally burst out of my chest with relief and…_joy,_" she continued, shaking her head as she stared at him as if she were reliving the moment when he'd walked through the front door. "I wasn't just happy, Damon, I was _ecstatic_ and the high was more intense than anything I'd ever experienced. The thought of ever being apart from you again…there aren't words to express how awful just the _idea _of that felt. I swore it would never happen."

"But it did," he said as she fell silent, understanding with a sickening clarity exactly what he'd unintentionally put her through inthe past two weeks.

"I felt you pulling away," she said, frowning as she tightened her grip on his neck. "I was so angry and scared and _lonely_, but every time I worked up the nerve to confront you about it, my heart just…broke. I knew you were in pain and I wanted to make it better, but I just didn't know how. It was paralyzing, Damon." A tear slipped down her cheek as she paused, swallowing to collect herself before continuing. "So, I think…I think I finally understand what it must have been like for you to think about killing me to have me around forever. To want something so badly that one second, you're literally willing to do _anything_ to make it happen and then in the next, your heart is being ripped in two by the reality of it all. I get a panic attack just _thinking_ about what I was asking of you, so yes, I'm _glad_ that you didn't have to go through with it."

Damon stared at her, astounded by her empathy and compassion. She was glad – glad that she'd suffered unspeakable horrors at the hands of a monster all to spare him the agony of having to turn her himself.

_God, I fucking _love _this girl._

"You're insane," he muttered, roughly wiping the tear from her cheek before taking her chin in his hand and kissing her. "Do you realize what you just said?"

Elena's eyes flashed with a hint of mirth as she offered him a watery smile. "I think I just said that I was glad that my boyfriend didn't have to kill me."

"_That _is insane," Damon insisted, tucking an arm behind his head as he tugged Elena down to the ground to lie next to him. As usual, she'd shocked the hell out of him, completely derailing his train of thought, and he had no idea how to get his apology back on track.

"You know, if I'd been a vampire when Landis came after me, I don't think I'd be here now," she admitted, tracing a pattern on his chest with the tip of her finger as he wrapped his arms around her, smoothing his hand down her hip. "He probably would have staked me in front of you or set me on fire or something. I don't think he realized that I still had his blood in my system when he threw me off of that cliff."

"He didn't," Damon replied, swallowing as his gaze wandered from her face toward the lightening forest. Landis's final words were burned into his brain. He'd never forget the look of hope that had flashed across the vampire's face as he'd tried to tell Damon the truth – not that it would have mattered. He wouldn't have believed it and regardless, Landis's death had been a non-negotiable inevitability. He paused briefly before closing his eyes as he tightened his grip on her waist."Not until the end."

Elena watched Damon as he gazed into the distance, wishing that mind-reading came with the vampire speed and general indestructibility. She'd been content to let the details of Landis's death wait until they'd found their footing regarding her transition, but she was beginning to understand that it was all connected. What had happened to her – to them – began and ended with Landis and the nightmare would never truly be over as long as there were things left unsaid.

"How did he die, Damon?" she asked quietly, feeling the now familiar surge of fear and hatred toward the dead vampire rise to the surface. "I need to know."

Hesitating for such a long time that Elena began to doubt he'd answer at all, he finally said. "Painfully."

"Tell me," she insisted, curling her fingers around his hand and squeezing as he continued tohesitate. She knew he didn't want to talk about it, but she couldn't tell if it was to protect her or himself. Her stomach fluttered in anticipation as he finally began to speak.

"Landis had a habit of running back to his brother every time he screwed up," Damon said, staring into the surrounding forest as he began the story. Elena listened without interruption as he explained how he and Katherine had headed for The Crossroads, taken over the bar and held everyone hostage while they waited for Landis to make his grand entrance. Her stomach churned as he spared no detail in describing the torture he'd inflicted upon the younger vampire and the various ways he'd made him bleed and scream. "When he tried to tell me about you…when he said your name, I…"

Looking at her for the first time since he'd begun his narrative, Damon pulled his hand from hers, bringing it to her face and tracing her features as if he still wasn't sure that she was real. Elena waited, unable to breathe, as he continued. "I lost it. Whatever control I had over my humanity switch shattered – not that it had been that strong to begin with –and I shoved your bracelet down his throat."

"My bracelet?" she repeated, frowning for a moment until understanding – and the horror that accompanied it – dawned and she realized that he meant her _vervaine _bracelet. "Oh."

"I don't…remember everything that happened after that," Damon admitted, speaking as if she hadn't interrupted him. "At least not in the right order. I know I killed Gregory. He was the only person Landis had ever cared about. It wasn't the same, but watching Landis's face when I ripped out Gregory's heart right in front of him…it was something."

Elena listened quietly as he explained what Katherine had done – the way she'd helped him keep the patrons at the bar in line and eventually doused them all in alcohol before setting the place on fire.

"You killed them all?" Elena asked, expecting to feel shock or revulsion when he nodded. Instead, the violence he described sated the fury and thirst for vengeance that had been burning increasingly hotter within her bloodstream since the moment she'd woken up in transition. Turning had shifted her moral compass, highlighting the shades of grey where she previously would have seen black and white. Damon's life – his sanity and peace of mind – was more important than the lives of a few unknown vampires.

"I didn't want to leave any loose ends this time," he explained, still lightly stroking her cheek. "And I…I wanted them to suffer," he confessed, holding her gaze defiantly, as if he were daring her to chastise him or question his decision. "So, I made it happen."

"Good," she said, a small part of her feeling smug over the surprise that washed over his features, while most of her was simply glad that he'd gotten his revenge and it wouldn't be there to fester inside of him for years like it had for Landis.

"You think that's good?" he demanded skeptically

Elena smirked. "You were avenging my death, Damon, it'd be kind of bitchy of me to disapprove of how you did it," she reminded him. "Besides…I have more important things to worry about than a bunch of nameless, faceless vampires."

"Like what?" Damon asked, as if he still couldn't quite believe it. "Usually you're all about the nameless, faceless hordes."

"Like you," she replied, ignoring his derisive comment and turning her face toward his hand, kissing his palm as he gazed at her in something close to awe. A fierce protectiveness washed over her as she continued. "I don't want you to end up like Landis."

"What do you mean?" he demanded, narrowing his eyes.

"He took me because he wanted you to suffer," she explained, launching into her own story – that of Landis's torture and imprisonment at Klaus's hands. Her stomach still turned at the thought of hanging upside down and slowly desiccating for three yearsand, although sherefused to feel sympathy for the monster, she understood what had happened to him and took an odd comfort in the fact that at least there had beenareason behind his actions.

"Landis spent all ofthat time dreaming about revenge," she said, draping an arm across his chest as she laid her head on his shoulder. Her memories of the time she'd spent with Landis were fuzzy during the day –onlysharpening into focus in her nightmares – but she'd never forget the fury in his eyes as he'd shared his story. "He'd probably still be hanging there if that homeless man hadn't wandered in. It wouldn't have mattered if I'd stayed in Mystic Falls, gone back to Atlanta or if we'd moved across the country. Eventually, he would have found me."

"Because I let my guard down," Damon replied angrily.

"No, you idiot, because he was determined," Elena sighed in exasperation as she lifted her head and glared at him. "This wasn't your fault, Damon. We didn't know that Klaus had him, let alone left him to rot. How were you supposed to have seen _Landis _coming after three years?"

"It doesn't matter," Damon insisted, shaking his head and staring resolutely at the overhead canopy of branches and leaves. "I had two jobs, Elena. Two simple jobs. I was supposed to keep you happy and keep you safe. I failed both of them."

Elena stared at him, caught between frustration and bitter disappointment as her eyes welled yet again with traitorous tears. _Two jobs? _she thought with fury, sucking her lip between her teeth to hide the emotion. She'd thought they were past this – past his feelings of unworthiness and the whole concept of whether or not he was worthy of being with her.

Apparently they weren't.

Suddenly needing to put some distance between them before she punched him again, she pushed off of his chest and sat up, looking around the clearing for her dress. Locating it at the foot of the tree where they'd made love – the _first_ time – she crawled toward it.

_Goddamn him, _she fumed, finding the dress ruined beyond repair and feeling naked and exposed for the first time since she'd woken up in his arms. How many times would they have to fight about this? How many times did he need to hear that she loved him for _him _before he believed it? Reaching for his black button-down shirt, she slipped her arms into it and secured the few buttons that still remained after she'd practically ripped it off of him the night before.

Chucking Damon's pants at him without looking, Elena hunted down her heels. She shivered at the memory of his breath on her skin as he'd whispered for her to keep them on while he'd had her pressed against the tree, her legs wrapped around his waist. The thought fanned the flames of her still smoldering desire, making her momentarily forget her anger as she recalled how he'd brought her to a seemingly endless succession of orgasms.

Shaking her head and summoning every ounce of her considerable self-control, Elena banished her lustful thoughts, forcing herself to stay focused. Covering up their problems with sex wouldn't make themgo away and if she wanted the whole idea of forever with Damon to work, she needed to stay angry.

Catching a glimpse of him slipping into his slacks out of the corner of her eye, she realized _that_ wouldn't be a problem.

Goddamn him.

"Elena," Damon said as she located her heels and got to her feet. His voice was calm, soothing – the tone she remembered well from all of their fights before – the ones where he known he'd fucked up and said something stupid,and was trying to use his considerable charm to smooth things over.

Not this time.

Clinging to her frustration, Elena stomped passed him, determined to make it back to the Salvatore house and take a shower – alone – to buy herself time while she nurtured her anger and figured out exactly what she wanted to say to him. She sensed, rather than saw, the way he rolled his eyes, her super hearing picking up on his huff of exasperation and the rustle of fabric as he zipped up his pants.

"Where are you going?" he demanded, catching up to her easily and touching her arm as she struggled to put on the sky-high heels and walk at the same time.

"Back to the house," she snapped, keeping her gaze resolutely focused on the trees as she shook off his hand. The sensation of his fingertips on her arm – even through the fabric of the shirt – nearly short-circuited her brain.

"It's the other way," he said, stopping her in her tracks as humiliation swept over her. Hating him a little bit more than she had a moment before, she mustered as much dignity as possible and turned around.

In a move that would prove to be her undoing, Elena looked at him as she prepared to blur away and lick her wounds in private. The single glance at Damon's unguarded expression revealed everything – pain, longing, confusion and an intense, desperate need to _make it better_.

_God_damn_ him._

A tear slipped through her lashes, adding another layer to the jumble of conflicting emotions raging inside of her as she wiped it away. Drawing a breath, Elena tried to run, but Damon was there, taking her arm and pulling her to him even as she fought to escape.

"Elena, no. I'm not letting you run again," he said as she struggled in his grasp, curling her fingers into fists and beating them against his bare chest. The tears of rage blinded her, but she couldn't tell who they were for, couldn't breathe or think straight long enough to figure out where the emotion was coming from. Shifting his grip, Damon wrapped his arms around her one at a time and held her in an unbreakable embrace. "Stop protecting me and talk to me. Tell me what's wrong."

"I…_everything_," Elena replied, pressing her face against his shoulder as the influx of heightened sensations pummeled her from every angle. Pounding her fist weakly against his chest, she sobbed. "Damon, I can't _think_, it's all too much."

"I know," he replied, holding her tightly as she continued to struggle. "I know it's overwhelming. Just…breathe and pick one – pick one feeling to latch on to."

Gritting her teeth, Elena squeezed her eyes shut as another emotion blindsided her – gratitude. She was so grateful for Damon – for his grounding presence and the feeling of strength that radiated off of him as he held her in his embrace – that she almost latched onto it and wrapped herself in the calming familiarity of making him the anchor in the center of her storm.

Almost.

_He'll just pull away again, _she thought, the errant fear a whisper that grew to a scream in the forefront of her mind. He'd pull away from her the second she calmed down, wallowing in failure or unworthiness or whatever other fucking excuse he came up with to justify _leaving her_.

"Stop," she muttered, a sudden stillness coming over her as she arrived in the eye of the storm. Grabbing the thread of her anger, she flattened her palms on his chest and shoved him away with every ounce of vampiric strengththat she had.

Taken by surprise, Damon stumbled backwards, his brow furrowing as he looked at her. "Elena?"

"You can't do that," she declared, clinging to the fragile thread for all she was worth. "We can't do that."

"Do what?" he asked, bewildered.

Shaking her head, Elena pushed her fingers through her hair, wincing at the knots she encountered. "You have one job, Damon," she insisted ignoring his question and focusing on his statement from before. Forcing herself to meet his eye, even though every new instinct she had was telling her to run**, **she gazed at him evenly. _I can't do that anymore, either, _she thought, knowing that if she ran, he'd just catch her and they'd probably fall to the forest floor again in a heap of raging desire and amazing sex that wouldn't solve a goddamn thing. "Not five, not six, not _two…_just one."

"What are you talking about?"

"Your only job is to love me," she said as sorrow crept up on her, wrapping around the thread of emotion and joining her anger. Rushing toward him, she took his face between her hands, searching his unmasked features. His eyes were open and vulnerable, letting her see down to the depths of his raw and wounded heart. "That's it. Just…_love _me."

"Elena," he murmured.

"I don't understand why you think you have to earn it," she continued as if he hadn't spoken, remembering the way she'd fallen for him effortlessly, without even realizing it. "Love's not a deal, it's not a contract or a bargain. There's no _end _for you to uphold, Damon. Love just _is_."

Elena paused, searching his eyes for some hint that her words were having an impact. She knew he'd always felt that he had to earn her love – as if it were some kind of prize to be won, some reward for his good deeds. She'd thought that it had been about Stefan being the 'good' brother and Damon being the 'bad', but it ran deeper than that, as if he'd be worthy of her love and get to keep it only if he kept her safe and happy.

"_I don't deserve you. But my brother does." _

_That's it, _she thought, her eyes widening at the realization.

Damon still believed that he didn't deserve it – didn't deserve _her._

"Do you believe that I love you?" she askedabruptly.

Damon frowned. "Of course," he replied. "You tell me that all-."

"Forget what I've told you," she said, shaking her head as tears began to course down her cheeks. "Do you _believe _it?" Pressing her palm flat against his chest, over his heart, she continued. "Do you feel it in _here_?"

"Elena-."

"Because I've always believed that you loved _me_," she explained, ignoring the random spikes of sensation that threatened to distract from the message she was trying to hammer home. "Even before that night when you were dying from the werewolf bite and you told me for the second time, I believed it." She paused before continuing earnestly, "Well, I love you, too. And you _deserve _me, Damon. Not because you're better than your brother or because you achieved some impossible task like keeping me safe from an enemy that you never could have seen coming. You deserve me because…I _say_ so. Because _I_ love you."

"Elena," Damon muttered, pressing his lips into an exasperated line as he glared at her. "You died. Because of me. Because_ I_ failed, you fucking died. I don't deserve shit if I can't keep you-."

"I'm not fucking dead, Damon," she cried, releasing her hold on him and shaking out of his grasp. Brushing the tears off of her face she threw up her hands. "I'm alive and I'm right here. _I've been right here_. So, fuck your failure and…and fuck _you_ if you're going to let Landis win by tearing us apart."

Emotionally drained, Elena turned away and began walkingbacktoward the house, grateful that the influx of sensation had apparently rendered her completely numb. She didn't want to feel the crushing disappointment and overwhelming sense of loss just yet. It was only a matter of time before they overwhelmed her and she preferred to be at home and at least wearing pants when it happened.

She wasn't surprised when she felt Damon blur by her and appear in front of her, blocking her path, but she tried to side-step him anyway. "Damon, please. I can't," she admitted brokenly. "I don't have anything left."

"Then stop talking for five seconds and listen to me," he said, taking her face between his hands and brushing the tears from her cheeks. "You're right, okay? That's what I've been trying to tell you since we woke up. You're right about how I've been acting and the way I've been blaming myself for everything and letting Landis win because I'm a coward and an ass. You're right about all of it. Except for one thing."

"What's that?"

"I do believe that you love me," he said, his eyes shining. "I do, Elena. I've never doubted that," he promised, stroking her cheeks as he searched her features. "I just…I don't know why."

"Why?" Elena repeated, staring at him incredulously as she stepped out of his arms. "What do you mean…_why_?"

Shaking his head, he tried to speak. "Elena, no, that's not-."

"Damon, I…I just…" she paused, shaking her head as she tried to wrap her mind around that utterly ludicrous statement. After all of this time, Damon was asking _why?_ "Goddamn you. You don't put sugar in my coffee."

Visibly taken aback, he said. "I don't _what?"_

"You don't put sugar in my coffee," she repeated, as she recalled the bright, sunny morning in the Salvatore kitchen when she'd realized that she was in love with him because of the little things. In the three years that they'd been together, he hadn't changed – hadn't stopped doing the small things that proved he knew her better than anyone. "And you took me to Spain because I told you _once _about a trip I missed before we even met. You're nice to my brother and he thinks you're a total badass even though he'll never admit it. You made me apply to Emory even though I was terrified and pretended like I didn't want to. Even when I try to hide it, you always know when I'm upset, but you never try to fix it, Damon you always just…let me be and somehow that makes everything better."

The words spilled from her lips, faster and easier as she held his gaze and thought about the pastthree years she'd spent with him. Why did she love him? It would be easier to come up with reasons why she _shouldn't_ love him. Even during the past few weeks, when she'd thought for sure that everything that she and Damon had worked so hard to build together was falling apart, he hadn't stopped paying attention. "You knew without asking what kind of vampire I wanted to be and you made sure that it happened. You knew what I could handle and when. Damon, I…" she paused, unable to speak around the lump in her throat. "I love you because… you listen and pay attention_. _You challenge me and you…you make me feel alive. I don't know how else to say it, I love you because you're just…_you_ and you have to believe that you deserve it, you have to-."

"Elena," Damon finally interrupted, catching her by the arm and pressing his thumb over her lips to silence her. A slight smile played over his lips as he said. "Let me finish." Elena held her breath as he took a beat, anxious and terrified for whatever he was about to reveal. "The why doesn't matter. You saved my life, Elena. As cheesy as it sounds, you saved my soul. It started the day we met and crept up on me. I fought it – hard – but there was no way to escape the hold you had on me, the way you made me want to be a better man whether you loved me or not. So, I won't apologize for wanting to keep you safe and happy and I will never forgive myself for not being able to save you.

"I don't know the magic words to get us past this, but we _will_," he said, his brow furrowing with the intensity of his promise. "I never meant to hide from you and I never meant to pull away. I just…I didn't realize that it had gotten this bad," he admitted, pausing to take a breath. "I'm done, okay? I'm done letting my guilt be more important than you and how much I love you. I need you to believe that."

Elena thought her heart was broken beyond repair, but she felt it move inside her chest at his words. She wanted to believe it – more than anything she wanted to believe in that beautiful promise and the sincerity in his open, hopeful features. Admitting that he'd been hiding from her and wallowing in his guilt was a start – a big one, considering how rarely Damon admitted to being wrong about anything.

She'd take it.

On one condition.

"I'll believe it," she said, reaching up to latch onto his wrist. Warmth spread through her as she felt his pulse – slow and steady beneath her fingertips – beating in time with hers. "As long as you believe that there's no one who could love me better than you do."

"Deal," Damon said, nodding as a smile curved his lips and the palpable tension between them eased. Dipping his head slightly, he raised a brow. "Now will you shut up and let me start making up for lost time?"

Silencing her with his lips before she had a chance to do more than open her mouth, Damon pulled her into his arms. Sinking gratefully into the kiss, Elena felt her heart begin to repair itself with each brush of his lips and stroke of his tongue as he poured everything he had into the connection. She _did _believe him – believed _in _him – and as long as he kept his promise they'd be okay. It might not be easy and it might not be right away, but if they stopped hiding, they'd find their way back to each other.

_Because this isn't luck_, Elena thought, wrapping her arms around his neck and leaning into him. Tilting her head to deepen the kiss, she whimpered softly as he pulled her tightly against him. It wasn't mere coincidence that had brought their paths crashing together four years ago. Somewhere along the way fate had decided that they belonged together.

Forever.

* * *

Walking arm in arm with Stefan, Katherine approached the front door of the Salvatore house with a mixture of excitement and trepidation over what she'd find inside. The sun had long since crested the horizon and it had been hours since Elena had run away from the Founder's Party with Damon hot on her sexy little leopard print heels. They'd had more than enough time to work out their issues – or at least get a head start on the physical ones.

The only question Katherine had was whether or not they'd made their way up to Damon's bedroom first.

Stefan didn't seem to share her concerns, however, opening the front door without even knocking and walking inside. Lingering on the front step, she peered into the shadowy foyer, listening carefully for any sounds of life in the form of raw, unbridled sex.

The only thing she heard was silence.

"You look disappointed," Stefan observed, closing the door behind her as she finally crossed the threshold.

"They're not here," she said, looking into the living room with a frown as she noted the cold grate and undisturbed furniture.

"They might be," Stefan shrugged. "Maybe they're asleep. It is early."

Katherine made a noncommittal noise as she did a quick circuit of the first floor, equally relieved and dissatisfied. As much as she would have enjoyed being an eye-witness to the success of her plan, she really didn't need to catch Damon and Elena in the throes of passion.

"Did you really expect to find them going at it on the floor or something?" Stefan asked with a chuckle as she met him at the foot of the stairs.

Raising a brow, Katherine flipped her hair over her shoulder and began to ascend the steps. "Maybe," she admitted. "At least that would have proved that Elena isn't a _complete_ prude."

"I'm glad we didn't find Damon surrounded by empty bottles of liquor," he said, following her as they headed to his room. "That has to be a good sign."

Entering Stefan's room, Katherine raised a brow in acknowledgement, her attention already focused on something else as she stripped her dress over her head and let it fall to the floor. Making her way toward the dresser, she opened a drawer and retrieved her favorite travel clothes – a pair of figure hugging black jeans and a black, scoop-neck top that fit her like a second skin.

"Katherine," Stefan said, standing by the foot of the bed and watching her as she pulled on the jeans.

"Yes?" she replied, putting her arms through the sleeves of the shirt and pulling it over her head.

"Are you…going somewhere?" he asked as she located her knee-high boots and balanced precariously on one foot to put them on.

"No," she said, offering him a smile as she returned to the bed and crouched down. Reaching underneath, she pulled out two suitcases and lifted them onto the mattress as if they weighed nothing. Lifting her chin, she locked eyes with him and left no room for argument as she announced. "We are."

Eyeing her warily, Stefan walked around to the side of the bed and unzipped the suitcases. Katherine smirked as his eyes widened in surprise at the contents. "When did you pack?"

"Yesterday while you were in the shower," she explained. "There's just a few things left in the dresser, but otherwise we're ready to go."

"Katherine-."

"We _are _going, Stefan," she insisted, gripping the lapel of his suit jacket. They had done all they could do – more than she would have bothered to do for anyone else. If Damon and Elena couldn't figure their relationship out now, there was nothing they could do to help them. "We did everything we could short **of** locking them in the cell in the basement for a century. It's up to them now. You've paid your debt. We both have."

Stefan sighed, staring at the packed suitcases as Katherine waited for his response. She was prepared for a fight, but she wasn't prepared to lose. One way or another, she was leaving Mystic Falls that morning – and Stefan would be with her, even if she had to knock him out and stick him in the trunk of the rental car.

"You're right," he said finally, surprising the hell out of her as he stripped off his suit jacket.

"I am?" she blinked, watching him as he went to the dresser to find something more comfortable to travel in. "I mean, of course I am."

"We've done everything we can," he continued, more to himself than to her as he changed into jeans and a long-sleeved T-shirt. Carefully, he folded the suit and placed it on top of the open suitcase. "As much as I need to make sure that they're okay, I know that I can't force Damon to do anything – or Elena for that matter."

"You figured it out," Katherine said, taking his shoulders and physically turning him to face her. Holding his face between her hands, she gently caressed his cheeks with her thumbs. "How to deal with your own demons – you may have had help, but in the end, _you_ did that, Stefan. Now it's Damon's turn."

Nodding, he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her close. "Thank you," he said, brushing a kiss over her lips.

"For what?" she asked coyly, blatantly fishing for compliments.

Stefan rolled his eyes. "For helping me take care of my brother," he replied, his eyes sincere despite the smile tugging at his lips. "And for helping Elena. I know how hard that was for you."

"Not yet you don't," she replied. "But you will." Claiming his mouth in a demanding kiss, Katherine gave him a taste of what she had planned, of the ways in which he'd _really _thank her for everything she'd done in the past few weeks. Truthfully, however, she'd needed to do it, needed to help Damon get his revenge and see to it that he and Elena found their way back to each other – and she had every confidence that they had, even without seeing the physical proof. Helping them now, making sure that Damon was living the life that he wanted, eased the regret she felt over destroying his life in 1864.

Not that she'd _ever _admit_that_ – not even to Stefan.

Pulling away, Katherine smoothed her hands down Stefan's chest and drew a breath. "I'm going to take this one down to the car," she said, grabbing the handle of the closed suitcase. "Finish packing the rest of our stuff and I'll meet you down there."

"Don't you want to wait to say goodbye?" Stefan asked.

Katherine scoffed, grabbing her jacket from the chair by the door and slipping it on. "I'm not waiting for them to come up for air."

Suitcase in hand, she descended the stairs and headed for the door, her excitement building as each step brought her closer to the moment when she and Stefan could say goodbye to Mystic Falls and get back to their life. _Where should we go next?_ she mused, reaching for the doorknob. _Perhaps Argentina. I haven't been there in…_

Her train of thought came to an abrupt halt as she opened the door and came face-to**-**face with a very disheveled and barely dressed Damon and Elena.

Katherine blinked, meeting Damon's surprised gaze as she saw that he was wearing _most _of his suit – the pants and the jacket. Shifting to Elena, Katherine smirked at the wide-eyed, guilty stare – as if she'd been caught doing something _naughty _ – noting that her doppelganger had somehow misplaced her dress and was now clad in nothing but Damon's shirt and the leopard print heels. Standing slightly behind him, Elena clung to his hand as her face turned an even deeper shade of red.

_I stand corrected, _Katherine thought, taking a step closer and plucking a leaf from Elena's hair. Holding it aloft, she let it flutter to the ground as she looked at them in triumph. _Not a prude after all. _

"Welcome back" she said, relishing the fruits of her labor as Damon and Elena stood half naked on the front steps. Tipping her head toward the car, she said. "Stefan and I are leaving."

Giving them one last appraising look, Katherine filed the image away, promising to savor it later. Once she and Stefan were out of Mystic Falls, she'd have the time to feel properly smug over the fact that she – Katherine Pierce – had saved the day.

* * *

Carrying two glasses of warm blood, Damon made his way from the kitchen into the living room where Elena was waiting for him. Curled up on the couch in one of his shirts – _not _the one she'd nearly ripped to shreds in the forest – she stared into the fire, contemplating the flames.

"Here," he said, earning her attention as he presented her with a glass of warm blood. Sitting up, Elena took the glass from him eagerly, holding it in both hands as she drained the contents in a single gulp. The veins around her eyes made a brief appearance, sending all of the blood in his body straight to his groin as he caught a flash of fang in the firelight.

Licking her lips self-consciously, Elena set the glass on the coffee table and murmured. "Thank you."

Sitting next to her, Damon tucked a finger under her chin and kissed her before she could suppress all traces of her dual nature. He knew she'd get used to it eventually, but it killed him to know that she wasn't completely comfortable in letting him see her as a vampire.

As if she wasn't as breathtakingly gorgeous and desirable with black eyes and elongated canines as she was without.

Remembering their night in the woods, he smirked against her mouth.

Maybe more so.

Running his tongue over her lips, he tasted the blood she'd consumed and let the veins surface around his eyes as he pulled away. Elena sighed softly, her lips curving into the ghost of a smile as she studied his matching features.

Draining his glass of blood quickly – not out of hunger so much as a desire to hold her – Damon leaned back against the cushions and took Elena into his arms. She settled easily against his chest, curling her fingers into a fist over his heart. It was such a relief to be with her like this – without any stress or strain between them – that he didn't even have the words to express it. They sat in silence for a while, relishing the quiet house. True to her word, Katherine and Stefan had left that morning, saying their goodbyes before he and Elena had even been able to change clothes.

After they'd left, he and Elena had retreated to his room, passing the day in a blur of sex and blood sharing before collapsing in an exhausted heap of tangled, sweaty limbs for a few hours. He still couldn't believe he'd let two weeks go by without making love to her and he'd promised her that he'd make up for lost time – a promise he had absolutely every intention of keeping.

"Were you ever going to tell me?" Elena asked suddenly, breaking the silence.

"Tell you what?" he asked, running his fingers through her hair, still damp from the shower they'd taken an hour ago.

"'I love you, Elena. And it's because I love you that I can't be selfish with you. And why you can't know this,'" she murmured, propping her chin on her fist and watching him carefully as she quoted his own words at him. "'I don't deserve you.'"

The compulsion.

_She remembers, _he realized with a start, his eyes widening in surprise. He hadn't thought about that night in years – hell, he hadn't thought about that goddamn necklace since the night they'd killed Klaus. Closing his eyes, he shook his head as her words from the clearing – all of the talk about him telling her he loved her for a _second_ time and what he _deserved_ – suddenly made sense.

"You remember," he said needlessly in an attempt to buy himself a little more time.

Elena nodded. "So, why didn't you tell me? Three years and it never crossed your mind to let me know that 'by the way, I compelled you this one time'."

"Honestly?"

"Of course."

"I forgot," he admitted, watching her eyes widen comically with shock. The expression looked so much like the one she'd worn at the party before she'd punched him that he tightened his hold on her.

"You…you're kidding me," she replied bluntly.

"Well…no," he said, shrugging awkwardly from his prone position. At the time, the confession had felt like the most important thing in the world, but then he and Elena had actually gotten together and the longer he'd been with her, the less it had mattered. "At first I didn't want to rock the boat and admit that I'd compelled you to forget something when you had no way of knowing if I was telling the truth."

"And then?" she prompted after he fell silent.

"Then I started to believe we'd last and I got used to telling you that I loved you all ofthe time," he said, wondering if she had any idea what it meant for himto be able to say those three words and know that he'd hear them back. "After a while it seemed…insignificant."

"Insignificant," she repeated, incredulous now as she stared at him. "You don't think I'd want to remember the first time my boyfriend told me he loved me?"

"Oh, come on," Damon replied, rolling his eyes. "The deathbed confession was way better than when I had to give you that damn necklace back – _again_. Why would I want you to remember the time I said, 'hey, I love you, but you should really be with my _brother.'_"

Her easy laughter echoed in the room, twisting his heart in the best way possible. "You're such an ass."

"Speaking of confessions," he said, propping his head up on his bent arm now that he was certain she wasn't going to take another swing at him. "What was all that crap about me not wanting you now that you're a vampire? Since when are you jealous of _Katherine_?"

Elena's smile faltered as a blush crept up her neck, staining her cheeks a beautiful shade of pink in the firelight. "I'm…not, really, I…" Pursing her lips together, she sighed and looked away. "I was grasping at straws, latching on to whatever I could think of to explain why things were so messed up. Although…I'd be lying if I said I never wondered how I compared…"

"To Katherine?" Damon asked, knowing he was flirting with disaster in even indulging Elena's line of thinking. Then again, she'd indulged him that day, had been indulging him for two weeks and the least he could do was be honest with her. "Katherine's good in bed and she knows it," he admitted, watching her carefully to gauge her reaction. "But she never loved me, Elena. When we were together, she was never fully _there_, and believe me, the way you look at me…what I see in _your _eyes…that trumps _everything_ else every time."

Elena stared at him for a moment, her expression guarded as he waited anxiously for her response. The words didn't do justice to how being with her made everything that had come before – including Katherine – pale in comparison. She'd see right through flowery words and big speeches, however, so he crossed his fingers and hoped that she believed him.

"Wow," she finally grinned, shaking her head as she chuckled in disbelief. "That …that was _smooth_, Salvatore."

Relief coursed through him as he smirked, reaching for her and pulling her closer so that he could claim her lips. "Right?" he said, his eyes flashing as they broke the connection.

Still grinning, she shook her head, her warm brown eyes glowing with sincerity as she stroked the side of his face. "I love you."

"I love you, too," he replied, meaning every syllable as he kissed her again.

* * *

_AN: Can't wait to hear your thoughts! One chapter left..._


	24. Not Was

Epilogue – Not Was

_Curling her fingers into fists to hide the tremors raging through her body, Elena sat in the passenger seat of Caroline's car, focusing every ounce of her self-control on patience. She was nearly home – just a few more miles until they reached the Mystic Falls city limits and then only a few minutes to drive through town back to the Salvatore house. _

_She could make it. She _had_ to._

"_Elena," Caroline said, breaking the tense silence in the vehicle. Glancing at her friend, Elena noted the furrows of concern creasing the blonde's forehead and the way she was worrying her bottom lip. _Great. Here come the platitudes_, she thought, pressing back into the seat in irritation._

"_I don't want to talk about it," she muttered through gritted teeth. _

"_But you're beating yourself up over_ nothing_," Caroline insisted, ignoring Elena's explicit request. "Nothing happened, that sales clerk is fine."_

No thanks to me. _"I said I don't want to talk about it," Elena repeated, clenching her fists so tightly that her nails dug into her palms deep enough to draw blood. The scent hit her nostrils instantly, making her ravenous and nauseas at the same time. Uncurling her fingers, she pressed her palms flat against her thighs and leaned against the headrest in despair and frustration as she fought the bloodlust. _

_When was it going to get easier? It was_ supposed _to be getting easier… _

_To Elena's grim satisfaction, Caroline kept her mouth shut for the rest of the drive home, wordlessly handing over her shopping bags as she wrestled with the door handle in her haste to get out of the car. The dome light came on as she opened the passenger door, illuminating Caroline's crestfallen features. Marshaling the ragged threads of her control, Elena offered her friend a pathetic excuse for a smile. "Thank you," she said, forcing as much sincerity into her voice as possible. She _was_ grateful to Caroline. Not only had she devoted the better part of the last month to helping Elena through her transition she'd kept her from making a horrible mistake that afternoon – one that would have changed her life forever. "I'll call you tomorrow, okay?"_

_The blonde's perfectly curled hair danced around her shoulders as she nodded. "Okay."_

_Climbing out of the car, Elena slammed the door with far more force than necessary before blurring up the sidewalk to the house. Throwing open the front door, she barely slowed down long enough to kick it closed with her booted heel before blurring toward the back of the house, tossing her shopping bags in the general vicinity of the staircase as she passed. _

So. Fucking. Stupid_, she berated herself, storming into the kitchen without bothering to turn on the lights and yanking the refrigerator open so hard that the door bounced off of the cupboards. Grabbing a blood bag from the bottom shelf, she ripped it open, bringing the tube to her lips without bothering to warm it up. _

_The blood was awful – thick and cold, coating her throat like glue and hitting her stomach like rocks – but it did its job. Elena's fangs descended as she guzzled it down, closing her burning eyes in relief as the fiery, demanding _need_ that had been sitting like a boulder on her chest finally rolled away. _

_Finishing the first bag, she tossed it toward the sink, not caring when it bounced off of the edge of the counter and landed on the floor with a dull _thwap_. Grabbing a second bag from the still open refrigerator, she made short work of the contents, grimacing at the medicinal aftertaste as she sucked it down. _

"_Rough day?" _

_Startled, Elena whirled around, the tube of the nearly empty blood bag still trapped between her lips as her eyes widened. Standing calmly at the end of the counter, on the very edge of the pool of light emanating from the refrigerator, Damon watched her, his eyes hidden by the shadows. She swallowed, reluctantly lowering the bag from her mouth as she self-consciously licked her lips. She must be losing it. Damon hadn't been able to sneak up on her like that in weeks._

_Fantastic, she thought, her stomach turning as she threw the blood bag into the sink. It was like she hadn't learned _anything_ since she'd turned. Thrown off by a little bloodlust and suddenly she was a mindless animal, too focused on _feeding_ to pay attention to her surroundings. _

"_Didn't Caroline tell you?" she snapped, working hard to get the words out around her elongated canines. "I'm surprised she didn't call you to tattle on me the second I got out of her car." _

"_I'll take that as a yes," he smirked, casually closing the distance between them. He studied her for a moment before bending down to retrieve the blood bag from where it had landed on the floor. His eyes never left hers as he tossed it into the sink. "What happened?" _

"_Nothing much," she replied with a shrug as her canines began to recede and the heat around her eyes lessoned. With the hunger momentarily sated, she was able to focus all of her energy on self-loathing. "I almost killed someone, that's all." _

"_Ah."_

"_It was so…_stupid_," Elena fumed as tears flooded her eyes and the words poured from her mouth with ease. Letting Damon in – telling him the truth – was gradually becoming second nature again. "I _know_ better, Damon. The salesclerk was just trying to change the receipt paper on the printer and he got a paper cut. There wasn't even that much blood, but somehow I had him pinned to the floor and Caroline was yelling at me to stop while she tried to haul me off of him."_

"_But she _did_ haul you off of him," Damon said, standing close enough for Elena to feel his body heat, but not yet trying to touch her. "Right?"_

_Closing her eyes, she braced a hand on her hip before nodding. "Yes. We had to compel the whole store to forget that they saw me leap over the counter and attack the poor guy like some kind of psychotic vampire ninja, but yes, she did. And I learned a brand new trick. Yay for mind fucking people, right?" _

"_Psychotic vampire ninja?" Damon snickered, ignoring the snide remark about compulsion. "I wish I'd been there to see that."_

"_You think that's funny?" Elena snapped, opening her eyes and glaring at her boyfriend. "God, yes, it's just so funny that I almost tore a man's throat out today, Damon. It's absolutely fucking hysterical."_

"_You're a _vampire_, Elena," he reminded her – as if she could ever forget. "And you're fighting centuries of instinct. There isn't a vampire in history who's done what you're trying to do."_

"_So, you're saying it's hopeless? That I should just accept the fact that I'm a monster destined to rip people apart?" she demanded tearfully, smacking his hand away when he tried to touch her shoulder. _

"_You're not a monster, Elena," Damon replied, ignoring her desire to keep her distance as he grabbed both of her shoulders and dipped his head so that she had little choice but to meet his eye. "What I'm saying is that it's fucking hard and that you shouldn't beat yourself up over the _almosts_."_

"_That's easy for you to say," she argued stubbornly, crossing her arms as she pouted like a child. "You _never_ have almosts. You never-."_

"_Elena…" Damon muttered, casting his gaze heavenward as he blew out a frustrated breath. "I've got a few years on you."_

"_Whatever," Elena mumbled petulantly, looking away. Deep down, she knew that he was right, but at the moment she didn't care. She was tired of constantly fighting the cravings as she waited for the mythical day when she'd finally be able to handle the bloodlust and just be. _

"_Hey," Damon commanded, taking her chin between his thumb and forefinger. Elena kept her gaze lowered, preferring to wallow in self-pity rather than be moved by words of encouragement. "Look at me." _

_Almost against her will, Elena found herself doing as he asked, looking deeply into the crystal blue eyes she knew so well. The part of her that was still terrified over what had happened desperately wanted him to say the magic words that would make everything better. "It won't change anything," he said. "You know that, right?" _

"_What are you talking about?" she frowned. "What won't change anything?" _

"_If you kill someone," he stated bluntly, making her wince even as she held his gaze. "That isn't going to change what I think of you or how much I love you."_

_Elena blinked._

Son of a bitch.

_How did he do that?_

_How did he know of the fear that she'd barely allowed herself to think, let alone say out loud? The fear that if she killed someone – if she gave in to the bloodlust – she'd not only lose control, she'd lose the part of herself that made her Elena Gilbert. Something other than a mindless, killing machine._

_Suddenly, she felt like the biggest whiny brat on the planet. He was so patient with her, believed in her so much and she was repaying him by acting like a child. "Damon," she murmured, practically falling against him in exhaustion as he pulled her into his arms. Pressing her forehead against his shoulder, she eventually slipped her arms around him, clinging to him tightly. "I know you will. I'm sorry for being such a pain in the ass." _

_She felt his chuckle rumble through his chest as she snuggled closer. His lips brushed her temple as he said. "I suppose I'll forgive you. This time." _

"_Gee, thanks," she said with a muffled laugh as she let him hold her and soothe away what remained of her agitation and the annoying, skin-crawling sensation of the bloodlust. As they stood there quietly, Elena did her best to soak up every ounce of comfort that he offered. _

_She needed it – needed to be reminded that no matter what else changed in her life, she'd always have him as her one constant._

* * *

Elena stared at the blood gushing from the bartender's wound, paying careful attention to what her body was telling her. She hadn't witnessed the accident – somehow a beer mug had shattered, slicing the bartender's hand – but she'd instantly been drawn by the scent blood. Instinct raced through her, sharpening her senses as her mouth watered and her gums ached. Tightening her grip on her glass of bourbon, she waited for her eyes to burn as the bartender scowled and wrapped a towel around his hand.

Nothing.

The burn never came and within moments the ache in her gums eased. Closing her eyes briefly, Elena released the breath she'd been holding.

"Elena?" Damon asked, his strong, sure hand on her thigh, pressing lightly against her in reassurance.

"I'm okay," she promised, turning away from the scowling bartender as he held his hand to his chest and caught the attention of one of the wait staff. Meeting her boyfriend's gaze, she smiled. "Really."

Damon nodded, brushing her hair away from her face and touching her cheek before turning back to his drink and his conversation with Alaric. Swallowing, Elena ran her tongue over her teeth before taking a large gulp of her drink. A member of the wait staff helped the bartender apply first aid to the shallow wound and in less than five minutes, he was back to work, sweeping up the broken glass as if nothing had happened.

Finishing her drink, Elena slid off of her barstool. "I'm going to go play pool with Caroline," she said, resting her hand on Damon's back as she leaned in to kiss his cheek. He turned his head at the last second, capturing her lips in a much deeper kiss than she'd intended.

"Have fun," he said, his eyes sparkling as he pulled away, leaving her breathless. Rolling her eyes, Elena couldn't help but grin as she headed toward the pool tables, weaving her way through the crowd.

Two nights before Christmas, the Grille was packed with regular patrons as well as college students who'd returned home for the holidays. Everywhere she looked, Elena saw groups of people hugging and laughing their greetings as if they'd been apart for years, rather than a matter of months. Catching snippets of conversations about classes and dorm life, her heart ached a little for Emory and the life she'd been forced to put on hold.

Nearly three months ago, at the beginning of October, she and Damon had returned to Atlanta long enough for her to file the proper paperwork to drop her fall classes and officially take the semester off. Her stomach had turned at the portion of her tuition that she _wouldn't _be getting back, but she'd understood that it was her only option. She'd been able to handle Mystic Falls and events like the Founder's Party, but she hadn't been anywhere near ready to return to Atlanta. Clinging tightly to Damon's hand and holding her breath, she'd barely kept her bloodlust in check as they'd made their way across campus. She'd needed more time to get used to her new life, to work on her self-control before diving back into the much bigger and less familiar city.

"Wait, what do you mean I lost?" Caroline demanded, her voice cutting through the din of the other patrons. Elena focused on it as she skirted around a group of squealing girls, all speaking simultaneously at maximum volume while jumping around and hugging. "I got the eight ball in. That's how you win."

"Yeah, but you _scratched_ on the eight ball," Tyler explained, reaching into the slot at the end of the table to hold up the cue ball. "That's an automatic loss."

"Since when?"

"Since always."

Caroline glared at him, one hand on her hip, the other holding the cue stick as Elena sidled up to the pool table. "That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard."

"Well, don't blame me," Tyler replied with a shrug as he began racking up the colored balls for another game. "I didn't make up the rules."

"You're supposed to let your girlfriend win," Caroline insisted, nudging him playfully in the side with the end of her cue stick.

Tyler scoffed, easily maneuvering out of range as he finished the set up and rolled the cue ball down to the opposite end of the table. "Babe, you're the one holding the pool cue, I can't make you _not_ shoot the ball into the pocket," he said, winking at Elena.

"Whatever," Caroline huffed, pouting as she crossed her arms almost comically. Noticing Elena, she said. "Play Tyler at your own risk. He cheats."

"Caroline," Tyler said, dropping his chin to his chest in exasperation. "It's the _rules._"

Grinning, Elena grabbed a cue stick of her own from the wall, chalked it and lined up her first shot, being careful to keep her strength in check so that she didn't send any of the balls flying across the room. Chuckling softly at the mental image of the patrons ducking under their respective tables for cover, she watched the break before standing back as Caroline took her shot without interrupting the flow of her argument with Tyler.

They fell into an easy rhythm, one game bleeding into the next as they teased and cajoled each other about bad shots. Caroline had just snatched the ball Tyler had been aiming at off of the table, causing him to scratch the cue ball into the corner pocket, when Elena felt the weight of a familiar gaze on her back.

Glancing over her shoulder, she met Damon's eye and smiled. _I love you, _she thought for no other reason than the fact that it was true and she was happy –happy to be with her friends, happy that Jeremy would be coming home in a few days, happy that she'd be in Mystic Falls for Christmas with the people she loved, happy to be alive.

She was just…_happy_.

Really _fucking _happy.

That happiness had been hard-won. The explosive fight with Damon the night of the Founder's Party had brought down the walls that had been separating them, but the foundation of the problems between them had stubbornly persisted. Her nightmares had continued as well – albeit with decidedly less frequency and intensity now that Damon had returned to their bed – and she'd lost count of the number of times she'd caught him staring at her with a tortured, guilt-stricken expression. True to his word, however, he'd stayed – refusing to hide from her even when his desperate need to put distance between himself and his failure had been written plainly on his features.

Every day, the tension between them had lessened and every week was an improvement upon the last, allowing Elena to focus more and more of her energy into figuring out how to live as a vampire surrounded by human prey. It hadn't been easy. Despite her success at the Founder's Party, she'd had some horrifyingly close calls where a sudden surge of bloodlust had nearly resulted in the death of an innocent bystander.

The incident with the sales clerk had been an unexpected turning point for her. Elena had been too upset to admit it out loud that night, but Damon's assurance that he'd love her no matter what happened had eased some of the pressure she'd put on herself – the pressure to be perfect. The night had been another milestone, marking a shift in her transition and their relationship as they'd continued to heal.

Returning her attention to the game, Elena lingered by the pool tables through last call and, only when the overhead lights flickered on, did she reluctantly return the cue sticks to the wall mounts where they were kept.

"I'm going to miss this," Caroline sighed, throwing an arm around Elena's shoulders and voicing her exact thoughts out loud as they made their way toward the bar where Damon and Alaric were waiting for them. "Are you sure you have to go back to Atlanta?"

"I don't have to go back, Care, I _want_ to," Elena clarified, taking her jacket from Damon as they headed toward the door in a group. The new semester began in mid-January, but Caroline had been lamenting about Elena and Damon's departure for the past three weeks. "I have to go back to school. I'm already a semester behind."

"Oh, whatever," the blonde replied, waving her hand in a dismissive gesture. "You're a vampire, you have all the time in the world."

"That's what I told her," Damon muttered under his breath as he held the door open for the two women. Rolling her eyes, Elena was about to point out that he'd been the one to insist on only a semester off while she'd initially proposed a year, when she stepped out into the night and stopped in her tracks.

It was snowing.

Elena stared up at the cloudy sky, smiling as tiny, cold flakes hit her cheeks and instantly began to melt. A week ago, a cold snap had descended upon Mystic Falls and now, two days before Christmas, a four inch layer of snow blanketed the town. She'd always loved the snow – especially in December – but this year she was appreciating it on an entirely different level.

Covering up the faded leaves and brown grass of fall, the snow teased her heightened senses, smelling fresh and clean as it sparkled from bare tree branches and rooftops like millions of brilliant diamonds. She'd taken advantage of her high tolerance for the cold weather after the first snowfall, racing out of the house to play like a kid on Christmas morning. Damon had laughed at her enthusiasm, but she hadn't cared as she'd knelt amidst the fallen snow, scooping up handfuls of it and marveling at how _soft _it was as it slowly melted and dripped from her fingers.

Trying to explain the beauty of the snow to her brother, however, had left him unmoved.

"I live in Colorado," Jeremy had reminded her during his Thanksgiving break. "There's snow in the mountains all year round and besides, it's not like it's never snowed at home when we were growing up."

"Yeah, I know," Elena had sighed, staring out of the big picture window at the smooth, sparkling expanse of white stretching across the front yard. Staring at it while the sunlight reflected off of the multi-faceted surface actually hurt her eyes, but she couldn't look away. "But this is…_different."_

Jeremy had rolled his eyes and Elena had given up trying to explain it to him**.**

Everything was different now. Becoming a vampire had changed so much for Elena, but she'd quickly learned that it was difficult to describe it to…humans. She didn't have the words to adequately express how everything – sights, smells, sounds, _feelings – _were just so much…_more. _It almost saddened her to know that most humans would never appreciate the simple beauty of _snow._

"Aw, what the hell man, seriously?" Alaric whined as he and Damon made their way out of the bar, escorted by one of the harried wait staff who quickly closed and locked the door the second the two men crossed the threshold. Glaring at the sky, the thoroughly inebriated teacher muttered. "If I wanted to see a white Christmas, I'd watch the damn movie."

"Hey!" Elena cried, pretending to be hurt. "Stop insulting the snow. It's-."

"It's beautiful, yeah, yeah, I know. I heard you the first hundred times you said it," Alaric mocked, his tongue loosened considerably by the amount of alcohol he'd consumed. "You wouldn't be waxing all poetic if you had to shovel this shit out of the driveway."

Damon snorted. "When have you ever picked up a shovel?"

"Not the point," Alaric snapped.

Elena bit her lip to hold back a smile as he continued to grumble, her gaze shifting to Damon. He winked at her, leaving her weak in the knees as he egged Alaric on in his drunken rant against the snow.

"Come on, Grandpa," Damon teased, trying to take Alaric by the shoulders and guide him toward the Camaro. "It's past your bedtime."

"_Grandpa?_" Alaric retorted indignantly, shaking out of the vampire's grasp and proving he wasn't nearly as drunk as he seemed. "Who are you calling 'grandpa', old man? You're like a hundred and…" he frowned as he tried to quickly do the math in his head. "A hundred and a lot of years older than me."

"A hundred and a lot?" Damon snorted. "And they trust _you _to prepare children for the real world?"

"Social studies and history," Alaric reminded him. "Not math."

"A lover's spat," Tyler mused, eyeing the squabbling duo. "Isn't it cute?"

The vampire and the former hunter stopped in mid-insult, simultaneously turning to glare at the werewolf as Elena and Caroline burst out laughing.

"Aw, I don't want this to end," the blonde vampire repeated, bouncing on her toes as she grabbed Elena's arm. "It's going to be so boring when you two go back."

"Are you kidding, it's going to be awesome," Alaric said, punching Damon on the arm before leaping out of his reach. "I won't have to share my alcohol with this loser."

"Share my ass," Damon retorted, rolling his eyes as he shook his head. "As if I drink that cheap shit you guzzle like a-."

The rest of his insult was lost as a ball of fresh snow hit him squarely in the face. Elena's jaw dropped, her surprise quickly morphing into laughter as Damon blinked and clumps of melting snow slid down his face.

"Seriously, Ric?" Damon demanded incredulously, wiping the snow off of his face, but the teacher was already gone, leaving a pristine trail through the snow as he ran toward the town square. The normally grassy expanse was covered in snow drifts where the town's lone snowplow had dumped what had been scraped off of the streets. Damon shook his head before looking toward his girlfriend. "He's not really trying to outrun me, right?"

"Damon…" Elena said, eyeing him warily as he brushed the remains of the snowball off of his shirt and jacket. "Play nice."

"Fuck that, he's got his ring," Damon retorted, taking off toward the square in a blur of black against the white backdrop with Tyler close behind him.

"Come on," Caroline said, grabbing Elena's hand as Damon tackled Alaric to the ground before leaping back to his feet and pummeling him with snowballs. Tyler caught up, assisting the teacher at first until the human hit the werewolf with a snowball in his face as well. Eager to join in, Elena broke into a run as the fight turned into a free-for-all. She couldn't remember the last time she'd had a snowball fight…

"Wait, hold on," Elena said, stopping on the edge of the square and pulling Caroline up short.

"What?" Caroline asked, her gaze darting between the action to her left and Elena's face. "We can totally take them."

"I know," she replied, grinning as her gaze swept over the gazebo, half-buried in a snow drift in the center of the square. There were drifts all over, some of them big enough to hide behind. Her gaze shifted to Damon as the last snowball fight she'd been in returned to her in vivid detail.

_Payback's a bitch._

"Then what are we waiting for?" the blonde demanded, tugging on Elena's hand like an excited child.

"I have a plan," she said, her eyes sparkling as her grin turned mischievous. "And I'm going to need your help."

* * *

Dripping snow and feeling like a drowned and frozen rat, Damon made his way up the driveway toward his home. The temperature seemed to be hovering right around freezing and while the cold didn't bother him, the fact that his goddamn hair and clothes were icing over did. Leaving the Camaro parked at the Grille, he'd walked all the way back to his house.

There was no way in hell he was ruining the leather interior by driving in wet clothes.

_I'm going to kill her_, he thought as he opened the front door silently and stepped into the darkened house. There was no fire burning in the grate in the living room and while he could smell Elena – after three months, her perfume had permeated the entire house once again – he couldn't see or hear her.

Which was just as well for her…since she was about to die.

"Elena," he murmured, stepping cautiously into the living room, all of his senses on high alert. "Come out, come out wherever you are…"

After a long moment of silence, he heard a whispered. "No."

Damon smirked at the soft sound that seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at the same time. She was probably upstairs, whispering down from the landing, but he couldn't be certain. Elena had proven to be unnaturally skilled at utilizing her heightened senses to move silently through the house – especially when she was trying to sneak up on him.

Which she did often.

He suspected it was payback for the three years during which he'd held the monopoly on stealth in their relationship. In the past three months Elena had not only proven that she had a long memory for the little things he'd done to tease her over the years, but that she could also be very, very patient in choosing her moments for retaliation.

Case in point - an hour ago, she and Caroline had snuck up on him during their snowball fight and flipped him upside down into a snow bank. Revenge, she'd murmured through the layers of cold, wet stuff seeping into his clothes and skin, for St. Moritz.

He hadn't understood what the fuck she'd been talking about until he'd scrambled his way out of the damned pile of snow. As he'd attempted – unsuccessfully – to brush most of it off before it melted, he'd had a vivid memory of their trip and Elena's erotic striptease as she'd peeled away layers of wet clothing.

He'd been as proud of her as he'd been annoyed.

By the time his frozen brain had thawed enough for him to think about retaliation, Elena had disappeared and he'd been stuck with a guffawing and equally snow covered Tyler and Alaric in the middle of town at three in the morning. Leaving his idiot friends, he'd cast a longing look toward his car before setting off for home.

Creeping through the silent house, Damon realized that the games were far from over. Obviously, Elena wanted him to hunt her and since it was apparently a night for showing off, he decided to oblige.

It was time Elena realized just how good of a hunter he could be.

Especially when _she_ was the prey.

"I've got to admit," he said, keeping his voice low so that she'd have to stay close to hear it as he leaned into the living room and scanned the darkness. "That was pretty impressive."

"I know," she whispered after a few seconds of silence.

_Definitely not in the living room, _Damon decided as the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. Turning around slowly, he looked across the foyer into the library, squinting into the darkness. He was still convinced that she was upstairs, but the library was worth a look.

"How long did you spend planning that?" he asked, making his way silently across the polished floor.

"Years," she admitted, the murmured answer feeling like a caress over his entire body.

Upstairs. Definitely, upstairs.

"Years, really?" he mused, raising his voice slightly to mask the creak on the second step.

"Since Switzerland," she replied, confirming his revenge theory. She seemed further away, leading him to believe that she'd been standing somewhere that had allowed her to see him.

"That's a long time to plan revenge," he said, abandoning some of his care as he picked up the pace and ascended the stairs more quickly.

"It was worth it…"

Rolling his eyes, he smirked at the way she practically sang out her smug satisfaction at what she'd accomplished. Arriving at the top of the stairs, he looked around the landing, groaning internally when he saw that she'd opened every single door exactly the same amount. She could have slipped into any one of them and knowing her, she wouldn't answer him anymore, leaving him to guess blind.

"Yeah, but does it really count?" he asked, assuming that the blatant challenge to her victory would flush her out as he listened sharply for any sign of movement.

Nothing.

"I mean, Caroline had to help," Damon continued, thinking he'd heard movement in Stefan's room and taking a few steps down the hall. "So, you didn't get me on your own."

Curling his fingers around the door handle, he threw it open suddenly, expecting Elena to start guiltily at being caught on the first try before she attempted to blur around him and back into the hallway.

But she wasn't there.

_Okay…_

Frowning, he turned around, scanning the array of partially open doors as he tried to figure out where she'd be hiding – and more importantly why she wasn't taunting him anymore with that ethereal whisper. She _wanted _him to find her – that was the point – but she was certainly making it difficult this time.

A sigh, so soft he thought he'd imagined it, caught his attention, drawing his gaze toward his bedroom. Narrowing his eyes, he noticed that the door was slightly more ajar than the rest of them. Vague suspicions rose to the forefront of his mind, as he studied the door.

She wouldn't be so obvious as to hide in his own room…_unless she had something else planned._

Abandoning the hunt, he walked across the landing, vaguely aware of – and annoyed by –the water that he was dripping all over the floor. He'd have to wipe up the water soon before it stained the hardwood.

Which meant that the hot bath he was envisioning-for two-was going to have to wait.

Elena Gilbert had a lot to make up for…and he was going to enjoy making her pay up.

His bedroom door opened silently on its well-oiled hinges, allowing him to slip inside without a sound. He found her immediately, his gaze drawn to her as always – like a moth to the flame. Standing at the bathroom sink clad only in her red bra and panties, she seemed oblivious to his presence as he slowly approached.

Opening his mouth to speak, he snapped it shut again as the rest of the bathroom came into view. She'd lit half a dozen candles, arranging them around the bath that had already been drawn. Damon's chilled body ached with longing to slide beneath the steaming hot water. There'd clearly been more to her plan than a simple game of hide-and-seek, and while the red bra and matching panties stood out beautifully against her bare skin, highlighting every curve to erotic perfection, as far as staged discoveries went, this wasn't one of her best.

Standing in a trance in front of the soap dish, completely oblivious to his presence, really wasn't…

The soap dish.

Damon groaned inwardly.

_Shit. _

"Elena?" he said softly after clearing his throat. Jumping in surprise, she whirled around to face him, her hands clutching something to her heart.

"Damon," she gasped, glancing down as she started guiltily before tucking her hand behind her back in a vain attempt to hide the little black box that he already knew she'd already discovered. Looking sheepishly around the bathroom, she added. "You weren't supposed to find me yet."

"Oh yeah?" he asked, playing along, waiting to see how far she'd take it before admitting to what she'd found.

"Yeah, I was…going to be waiting in the tub," she explained, gesturing weakly with her empty hand toward the claw footed tub. "I figured you might want to warm up after your, um…fun in the snow."

"Ah," he said, smirking as he unzipped his jacket and began the awkward task of peeling the waterlogged thing off of his shoulders. Raising a brow, he asked. "So, what stopped you?"

"Oh, I…," she stammered with a shrug, obviously scrambling for a lie. Finally, she closed her eyes and sighed, holding out her hand and revealing the velvet jeweler's box that she'd found. "I found this and got distracted. Why didn't you tell me you had my ring? And why the hell did you put it in the soap dish? It doesn't exactly _blend _in."

"And yet, it took you two months to find it," Damon pointed out, chuckling as he tossed his sodden jacket to the floor and crossed to her. "Old habits," he added with a shrug, taking the box and opening it so that the silver ring caught the soft glow of the candlelight as Elena began unbuttoning his shirt. "I brought it back after we went down to Atlanta to take care of your classes for the semester. And I didn't tell you because I was going to give it to you for Christmas."

"Re-gifting?" Elena asked, raising a brow. "Classy, Salvatore." Her fingers trembled, however, as she struggled with the buttons and wet fabric of his shirt and when she looked at him her smile was strained. Damon saw the fear and excitement in her eyes during the brief glimpse she allowed him before refocusing on her work.

"S_omeone_ told me to keep it until she needed it, so I figure it's not so much re-gifting as follow through," he explained as her hands stilled, her fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt. For a long moment, he waited for her as she stood silently before him. He could practically hear the wheels in her head turning as she ran through the various ways that the next few minutes could play out. The mood between them had changed considerably, from playful to deliberate, and Damon felt the weight of it like a boulder on his chest.

"Damon?" Elena finally asked, lifting her head to meet his eye with an expression so nakedly vulnerable that it nearly squeezed his heart into mush. "Christmas isn't for two days, but…can I-can I have it now?"

* * *

_Damon made his way to the bar as Elena continued ranting about Bonnie. Keeping his gaze lowered and his attention seemingly focused on pouring a precise two fingers of bourbon, he did his best to appear uninterested._

_In reality, he was hanging on her every word. If he wanted to break her heart thoroughly enough to make her leave, he needed to pay attention._

"_So then Caroline said 'I'll buy it for you two as a housewarming gift,'" Elena revealed, directing her comments in Damon's general direction as she continued to pace the length of the room. "Right in front of Bonnie! I mean, I know Care isn't the best secret keeper in the world, but she just blurted it out without even thinking!" _

"_Why were you keeping it a secret from Bonnie?" Damon asked bluntly, taking a sip of his drink and folding his arms. _

"_What?" she asked, pausing in mid-stride as she blinked at him in surprise over the interruption._

"_You were going to tell her, right?" he pressed, meeting her eye with an unblinking gaze. "You weren't going to hide the fact that you planned on moving in with a vampire from your best friend forever, were you?"_

_Elena winced at the clear accusation in his tone before trying to mask her guilt with exaggerated defiance. "Of course, I was," she insisted. "I was just waiting for the right time to-."_

"_Break it to her gently?" Damon asked, scoffing derisively as he made his way casually around the couch and took a seat on the end furthest from her. "Come on, Elena. Even you're not that naïve when it comes to Bonnie. Like you said, she hates me." _

"_Right," she replied, gritting her teeth. "Anyway, like_ I_ was saying, I was definitely going to tell Bonnie, but with finals and all the graduation stuff going on I hadn't had a chance to yet."_

"_You had time to tell Caroline," he pointed out, studying the amber liquid in his glass._

"_Do you want to hear this or not, Damon?" she huffed, placing a hand on her hip as she glared at him. Holding up his hands, he shrugged and waved at her to continue. Despite the fact that he was used to Bonnie's anti-vampire vitriol, listening to a play-by-play of her argument with Elena stung. The witch apparently didn't understand why Elena wanted to have anything to do with vampires, why she loved one, why she'd want to move in with one in Atlanta and play house when all they did was fight all of the time. The real fist to the gut came near the end of the conversation, however, when Bonnie had apparently laid all of her cards on the table and presented Elena with the coup de grace._

"_Mistake, Damon," she cried, shaking her head in anger and disbelief. "She actually used the word _mistake _to describe the most important relationship – the most important decision – of my life." _

_Damon's stomach churned as he silently took a sip of his alcohol, feeling like he was right back at the _Bleeding Wolf_, listening to a far less diplomatic version of Alaric's speech. _

"_And as if that wasn't enough, she told me that I didn't have to settle for you._ Settle_," Elena continued ranting as he stared into the empty fireplace. Whatever doubts he'd had about following through with his plan to end things faded with each word that she recapped for him. Bonnie may be a judgmental bitch, but that didn't mean she was wrong and adding her voice to Alaric's simply reinforced the truth that Damon hadn't wanted to face. _

_Until now._

_Letting Elena go was the best thing he could do for her. _

"_Damon," she said sharply, her long, bare legs filling his field of vision as she stopped directly in front of him. "Are you even listening?"_

To every word._ Rising abruptly and forcing her back a step, he shrugged as he turned his back on her and walked toward the fireplace. "Not really."_

"_Not really?" she repeated, her voice cracking like a whip in the tense room. "Seriously?" _

"_What's the point?" he asked, his stomach turning with every mocking word he continued to deliver. "Bonnie hates me because I'm an evil vampire, an abomination against Nature, out to ruin her best friend's life, blah blah blah. Same shit, different day." _

_A measure of hurt bled into her expression, mixing with and sharpening her anger. "How can you be so glib-?"_

"_How can you take it so seriously?" he demanded, draining his drink and heading back to the alcohol as the weight of her incredulous gaze bore into his back. "I mean, the Sabrina the Teenage Bitch has been singing the same sad song for almost two years. Why is this time special and worthy of discussion? Unless…" He paused for effect, flicking a glance her way and noting the confusion in her eyes with an aching heart. "Deep down, you've decided that she's right."_

_Taken aback, Elena demanded. "What?" _

"_I am a vampire, Elena," he reminded her, splashing bourbon into the tumbler quickly and with far less precision than before. If he slowed down she might notice the way his hands were shaking and he couldn't afford to show any weakness – she knew him too well. "And I get why someone like you would be attracted to one."_

"_Someone like me?" she repeated, crossing her arms protectively across her chest. "What's that supposed to-."_

"_Everyone that you've ever loved has died on you," Damon snapped, desperately trying to remember how it felt not to care. "And I can't. No matter the supernatural bullshit that you drag me in to, I'll always be here. It's probably what made you stick around after you found out the truth about Stefan and I. A literal eternity with a vampire sounds pretty appealing, even though it's my nature to _prey_ on humans." Pausing for effect, he added. "You're supposed to fear me, Elena, not fuck me."_

_Elena's jaw dropped in shock and it took her a long moment to find her voice. "Wow." _

"_Speaking of which, why don't we just skip to the fucking?" he asked, mentally calculating how quickly he could take the discussion from peaceable to all-out-war with a method of escalating vulgarity. Knowing that she'd hate the implication that what they had was nothing more than really good sex, it became his weapon of choice."That's the only part we've ever been good at."_

_Visibly stung, Elena shook her head as she blinked away tears. "Why are you-"_

"_Am I wrong?" he demanded, deciding that it was best not to let her speak because the anguish in her voice wreaked havoc on his resolve. "Come on, Elena. The first time we met, you wanted me to take you down to the floor and fuck you until you couldn't move. I could smell it. You were so turned on, you couldn't think straight."_

"_Stop," she demanded, her voice surprisingly strong considering the blush staining her cheeks._

"_That's all this is," he continued, taking a sip of his bourbon and ignoring the way her chin was trembling with emotion. "Fighting and fucking. You get off on the fighting, on the way I wind you up like a toy until the only thing that will get rid of that itch between your thighs is bending you over and taking you-."_

"_Shut up, you son of a bitch!" _

_Leering at her – and hating himself with every fiber of his being as he watched the tears roll down her cheeks – he took another sip of bourbon before striking out again. "Are you going to hit me now?" _

_Shaking her head, Elena wiped the tears away angrily, her whole body trembling with a mixture of hurt and rage as she continued to stare at Damon, speechless and humiliated and confused. Mind racing, she desperately tried to catch up and figure out what the _hell_ had happened in the past few minutes. She'd expected him to rail at Bonnie, not at her, and yet somehow the entire conversation had been flipped upside down and sideways. Jesus, he expected her to _hit_ him. _

_Although, the more his crude words sunk in, the more she really _really_ wanted to. _

"_Do you want me to hit you?" she asked quietly, trying to keep her voice steady as she tried not to think about the number of times she _had_ hit him in the heat of an argument. She'd regretted it immediately, every time, but Damon had always known what buttons to push to bring out the worst in her. _

_Buttons he hadn't pushed in almost two years._

_Why now?_

"_It's the pattern, Elena," he sneered, uttering her name in an erotic way that dripped with sex and made her skin crawl simultaneously. It was the way he used to talk to her when they'd first met – when he'd wanted to piss her off. "We fight, I upset your delicate sensibilities by saying something true that you don't want to hear, you hit me, we fuck." He shrugged again from his place behind the bar. "As much as I like a little violence now and then, I'd rather we just skip to the end." _

"_You think I'm going to let you _touch _me after what you've just said?" she asked, cursing herself for sounding weak and scared when she wanted to be strong. "Why are you acting like this?"_

"_I'm not acting like anything," he said dispassionately, lifting his shoulders in a maddening and dismissive shrug that set her nerves on edge. Looking away from her, he took a sip of his drink. _

"_Bullshit," she cried, advancing on him determined to get the truth. If this was how he really felt – if he really considered her nothing more than a good lay – then she wanted to know why he'd strung her along for the past year. "We were talking about Bonnie. I thought you'd commiserate with me on what a horrible bitch I have for a best friend and instead you…Why are you saying all of these things?"_

"_I'm saying these things because they're true," Damon insisted, backing away from her as she rounded the couch. "It's time you faced reality and quit living in the fairytale where I'm some kind of white knight instead of an evil monster." _

_Elena narrowed her eyes at the catch in his voice on the last word. _Monster_. Not bad guy, not vampire, but monster. On instinct, she stepped closer, noting the way he countered the move with another step backward. Suddenly suspicious, she lifted her chin and met his gaze unflinchingly. Damon held it for a few seconds before looking away and bringing his glass of bourbon to his lips with a trembling hand. _

_Elena started. Damon didn't tremble. He also didn't keep his distance when they fought. He crowded her, deliberately invaded her personal space in an often successful attempt to throw her off of her game._

He's lying, _she realized with relief. Whatever point he was trying to make, whatever pain he was trying to inflict, he was utterly full of shit. _

_But why? _

_Why would he purposely try to hurt her in the midst of her story about Bonnie? Where the hell was this even coming from? _

"_You're not a monster," she argued, buying time as her mind raced to make sense of the conversation. _

"_Oh, I'm the definition of monster, sweetheart," he replied, his trademark smirk suddenly looking like a grimace of pain. _

"_But _you_ don't think you are," she insisted, advancing on him slowly as he stared into the empty fireplace. "Damon Salvatore – at least the one you so vividly described – thinks he's at the top of the goddamn food chain."_

"_I am," he nodded, gulping his bourbon as he crossed his arm around his torso. The gesture had appeared casual and defiant when he'd done it earlier. _

_Now, it just looked like he was trying to hold himself together._

"Deep down, you've decided that she's right."

_Elena's eyes widened with sudden understanding. Everything out of his mouth _had_ been a lie, but he'd looked her right in the eye when he'd made _that_ comment. _She_ didn't think that Bonnie was right, but Damon…_

_He did. _

_He believed that she was making a mistake. Settling. He believed that she was better off without him._

"_I know what you're trying to do," Elena said, noting that she'd hit the nail on the head when she'd thought about the way Damon knew how to push her buttons. He'd been pushing her on purpose so that she'd do what she always had in the past and walk away in a huff. _

_Walk away…and never come back._

"_I'm just telling the truth."_

"_No, you're_ lying_," she argued, crossing her arms as she stared at him appraisingly. "You don't think Bonnie's right. You _never_ think Bonnie's right. You're just trying to upset me."_

"_Now why would I do that?" Damon demanded, his hard, cold gaze slicing through her as he looked at her again. Her confidence wavered in light of that gaze, fueling her resolve to get to the truth. _

_She refused to believe that everything she knew to be true was really a lie._

"_I don't know. So, I'd save you from having to grow a pair and leave me, maybe?" Elena said, her brain racing a mile a minute as she tried to piece things together. "What happened? Did Bonnie get to you, too? Did she call you or something? You can't tell me that you just decided somewhere between this morning when we woke up in bed together and now that you're tired of me."_

_Damon shook his head before saying evasively. "I haven't talked to Bonnie in weeks."_

"_Then who?" Elena demanded, trying to remember what Damon had told her he was doing that day. He'd said something about meeting with Liz and then having drinks with Alaric after school, but that didn't…_

_Fuck. _

"_Ric?" she murmured, her stomach turning at the implied betrayal. It had to have been him. Even if Sheriff Forbes had had an opinion on her and Damon moving to Atlanta, she wouldn't have voiced it. Rushing to his side, she demanded. "Oh, my god, what did he say to you, Damon-."_

"_Noth-."_

"_Don't _lie_ to me," she cried, tears burning behind her eyes. "We were fine this morning – better than fine. So, tell me the truth. What the hell did Ric say to you?" _

_Cursing under his breath, Damon closed his eyes briefly and rubbed his hand over his face. When he opened them again his entire demeanor had changed. Pain and anguish radiated from his intense, blue gaze, breaking her heart as it searched her face. Lifting his hand, his fingers hovered near her cheek for a moment before he dropped it back to his side and turned away. "Nothing I didn't already know," he muttered. _

"_What's that supposed to mean?" she demanded, following close on his heels and ducking around him as they drew close to the fireplace. He brushed her away as she reached for him, but she insisted, taking his face between her hands and forcing him to look at her. "Damon, talk to me."_

"_Elena…" he murmured, gazing at her helplessly. "What the hell are you doing with me?"_

"_I _love_ you," she replied, frowning at him in confusion. _

"_You shouldn't," he said, his gaze flitting all over her face, as if he were memorizing her features. "Klaus is dead. You've been happy and safe for a year and now you've got a chance to get the hell out of Mystic Falls and put all of this doppelganger bullshit behind you. You can be human, live a human life."_

"_Why do you think I've been happy?" she demanded, stroking his cheeks with her thumbs as the gravity of the situation weighed her down. Every time they fought, a small part of her wondered if _this_ fight would be _the_ fight_ _– the one that broke them for good. She'd never paid much attention to that small part of her, but suddenly it wasn't so small. Suddenly, the fear that she could lose Damon for good took over her entire being. "It's because of you, Damon. I'm happy because I'm with _you_." _

"_But I'll destroy you," he insisted with such earnestness that it made her heart break. "My life, my world..._me_. It'll ruin everything good in you…everything that I love about you." _

_Tears coursed down her cheeks as she argued. "No, you won't," she insisted, shaking her head for emphasis. "Damon…if it weren't for you…and Stefan…coming into my life when you did, I'd be dead. This…doppelganger bullshit isn't something that I can escape. No matter what Ric said."_

"_But Klaus-."_

"_Fuck Klaus," Elena cried, dropping her hands to his shoulders and shaking him a little. "God, how can you be so short-sighted? Not everything is your fault." _

"_I think everyone who's ever met me would beg to differ," he quipped, trying – and failing – to laugh._

"_Shut up," she muttered, her voice breaking with emotion. Elena didn't find it funny. She didn't find any of this funny. In that moment she hated Alaric and Bonnie – hated everyone who'd ever said or done anything to make Damon doubt his place in her life and how impossible it would be for her to continue without him. "It doesn't matter that Klaus is dead or that things have been quiet for a year. It's not over, Damon. It's never going to be over. I'm never going to live a normal, human life." _

"_You could," he argued. "I'm the last link, Elena. Without me -."_

"_Without you, there's still Caroline and Bonnie. And Tyler," Elena pointed out. "And my brother who can see ghosts. And me," she added, reminding him of the irrefutable truth. "I'm_ always_ going to be the doppelganger. Until the day I die or turn, I'm going to be different, a target because we don't know who else out there might want my blood for their magic spells or whatever."_

"_I'll protect you, Elena," he promised, a look of horror crossing his features as if he were appalled that she could even think that he'd abandon her completely. "I'll always protect you, but you don't have to _be_ with me for me to do that. You can fall in love with a human, get married, raise a family. You don't need me-._"

"_Yes, I do," she cried, tears falling down her cheeks unchecked now. "I need you, Damon. And I want you. Just you. It's always going to be you." _

_Damon blinked at those words, his expression clearing slightly as he continued to stand stoically before her. The uncertainty in his gaze was breathtakingly painful to behold, as if he'd already let her go – on the way home perhaps – and now the challenge came in convincing himself that he could take her back. Her hands fell to her sides as he took a step back from her and turned away. Despair coursed through her as he continued to stare into the empty fireplace, the sudden silence in the room deafening._

"_Damon...please." _

_Taking a deep breath, he turned towards her, his gaze unwavering before a corner of his mouth hitched upwards. "Fuck Klaus, huh?" Something in his voice – something that sounded a lot like acceptance – made her heart soar. _

"_Yes," she nodded. "Fuck him and Bonnie and Ric…fuck anyone that tries to say that this isn't right. That the way we love each other isn't the best, most amazing thing that's ever happened, okay?"_

"_Okay," Damon promised after a drawn-out silence. Half sobbing and half laughing with relief, she closed the distance between them, wrapping her arms around him and burying her face in the crook of his neck, already trying to forget how real the past few minutes had been, how incredibly close she'd come to losing him. _

_Slowly, Damon returned the embrace, his hands moving over her body reverently as if he were memorizing every curve. For a long moment they stood like that, limbs entangled and pressed against each other so tightly that if Elena hadn't known better she would have sworn that she could hear his heart pounding against his ribs._

"_I need you to promise me something," she said, pulling away to look him in the eye. "Promise me that no matter what happens, we don't let anyone come between us. If we fall apart," she paused, swallowing the bitter taste the words left in her mouth before pressing ahead. "If we fall apart…"_

"_It won't be because a bitchy little witch hates me," he supplied with enough venom in his voice to prove that things were returning to normal. _

"_Or because your idiot best friend thinks he needs to look out for my best interests," she finished, raising a brow as she ran her fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck. _

"_Right," Damon said, his gaze dropping to her mouth a second before he claimed her lips. Passion flared between them, fierce and intense, reminding her that they'd fought – and would inevitably fight again. Between kisses, almost as if he'd read her mind, he murmured. "Sorry I was an asshole. I'll make it up to you."_

"_I know you will," she replied breathlessly as he turned his attention to her neck, dragging his blunt teeth against her skin and making her thighs clench. "Besides, you may have been a dick, but you weren't wrong. Our fights _do _tend to follow a pattern." _

"_They do," he agreed as he tugged her tank top down to press a trail of open mouthed kisses to the swells of her breasts. Elena clung to him, letting her head fall back as he made his way back to her mouth. "And I kind of like how they end." _

"_Me, too," she grinned, nipping playfully at his bottom lip. "We shouldn't break tradition." _

"_No?" he asked, raising a brow. _

_Elena shook her head. "No." _

_Grinning against his lips, Elena wrapped her legs around his waist as he lifted her off of the floor and carried her toward the couch, the familiar heat between them building in intensity with every step. The knot of anxiety that had taken root in her stomach that afternoon at the mall loosened as he settled her against the cushions without breaking their connection. Parting her lips, she allowed entrance to his probing tongue, arching into him as his hand smoothed down her hip and beneath the hem of her shorts. Elena moaned into his mouth as he caressed her thigh, his fingers inching slowly higher as they kissed. _

Best. Tradition. Ever.

* * *

_Can I have it now?_

Damon could have gone nuts with innuendo and smartass remarks – and any other night, over anything else he would have – but in that moment all he wanted was to do what Elena asked.

Nodding, he tugged her temporary daylight ring off of the middle finger on her left hand before taking the beautiful, intricately carved silver band from the plush velvet box. He rubbed his thumb over the lapis lazuli stones, momentarily struck by the fact that those tiny blue gems could be spelled to protect them from the sun.

Would be protecting _her _from the sun.

"Wait," Elena said as he tried to put the new ring back on her middle finger. Frowning slightly, he raised a questioning brow as she smiled softly and said. "Not on that one."

Presenting him with her left ring finger, he smirked and shook his head at the embarrassingly giddy sensation that swept through him. He knew it was silly to be so sentimental about putting the daylight ring on such a noteworthy finger. The ring was life and freedom for vampires– meaning so much more than an engagement ring or a wedding band – but Damon held his breath as he slid the ring into place, anyway, releasing it only when he knew for certain that it fit.

Perfectly.

"Thank you," Elena breathed, taking a moment to stare at her hand and admire the ring in a new light. Lifting her gaze, she blinked away the tears in her eyes before rising on her toes and wrapping her arms around his neck. She kissed him, her soft lips feathering over his with reverence as his hands settled on her hips.

"You're welcome," he murmured as they broke away, brushing extra kisses to the corner of her mouth and the tip of her nose. Desperate to break the tension before he did something so foolishly romantic as to voice the thoughts that were running through his head –that _she _was the one who deserved the thanks, that she was the one who'd saved him and chosen him a thousand times over – Damon wrapped his arms fully around her, pulling her flush against his wet, fully clothed body. Speaking into her ear as she squealed and struggled against the uncomfortable cold, he added. "But don't think you're off the hook for your little stunt in the square."

"You're such a sore loser," she exclaimed, wriggling out of his arms before backing him toward the tub as she helped him get rid of his clothes and boots. Reaching behind her back, she unhooked her bra, releasing it only when he eased into the water. Dropping it to the floor, she shed her panties as well and climbed in after him.

Damon leaned back against the wall of the tub as she settled against him, her back resting against his chest. For a while they soaked in silence as the hot water penetrated his chilled body. Closing his eyes, he rested his forehead against her crown, nuzzling his nose in her hair as he breathed her in.

"What's this?" she asked suddenly.

"Huh?" he asked, without moving.

"On my ring," she said, shifting slightly and forcing him to lift his head. Opening his eyes, he saw her leaning toward the candlelight, adjusting the ring minutely. "It looks like…dates. Did you have this engraved?"

"Remember that day you and Jeremy followed me around Atlanta?" he asked, sliding his fingers up the length of her arm and threading her fingers through hers. "That's what I was doing."

Narrowing her eyes, Elena read the tiny print of one of the dates aloud. "That was…that was a year ago, but I don't…" Blushing in the candlelight, she turned and guiltily met his eye. "I don't remember what happened."

"You wouldn't," he said, recalling the innocuous Saturday when he'd opened the fridge and discovered her diet coke nestled next to his blood bags as if it had been the most normal thing in the world. "But it was the day I realized that you weren't leaving. That whatever this thing was that we had…you weren't going to change your mind."

Tears filled her eyes as she looked at him. Swallowing, her voice was rough as she asked. "And the other date?"

"Figure it out," he said, nodding toward their joined hands. Biting her lips, Elena studied the first date and Damon could tell by the way the color drained from her face when she remembered the _when_.

"Damon, this is…we weren't even together yet."

"Nope," he replied, pulling her back into his arms as he settled against the tub. Keeping their hands joined, he explained. "But we were _together_. In a bar. In Georgia."

"Oh," Elena breathed, twisting slightly to grin at him. "Our first roadtrip."

"Yup," he said, running his fingers over the tiny engraving. "Two very significant things happened during that trip."

"And what were those very significant things?" she asked, the grin evident in her voice.

"Well, I decided somewhere between your fifth and eighth beer, that any girl who could hold her liquor like you could, couldn't be half bad."

"Not half bad?" she repeated, glancing over her shoulder at him and raising a brow.

"Well, considering I was all bad at the time, that's actually pretty high praise."

Elena rolled her eyes, turning back around and shifting her grip on his hand as she began to play with his daylight ring. "What's the other thing?"

"You saved my life," he said, vividly recalling the heat of the flames, the scent of the gasoline and Elena's anguished pleas for mercy. "For the first time."

"You'd already saved mine," she murmured softly, tugging his ring from his middle finger and slipping it onto his ring finger where it spun around, just the slightest bit too loose. "You've never stopped."

"I never will," he answered honestly, sliding his free hand below the water to lock around her waist. They sat in silence for a while as Damon fought with lingering reminders of the one time he'd failed. He knew that Elena didn't see it that way and it was in moments like these, thather belief in him was the only thing that kept him from succumbing to the crushing weight of guilt over her death.

"Neither will I," Elena promised, her soft voice sounding incredibly loud in the silence as she held Damon's hand up so that his ring could catch the light. He looked at their hands, matching rings flashing in the candlelight as her heart beat slow and steady in time to his. He'd never felt so deeply at peace and he marveled at the fact that this was his.

_She _was his.

Forever.

"I love you, Elena," he whispered, pressing a kiss to the soft spot just behind her ear.

"I love you, Damon," she replied back, turning her head to capture his mouth in a lingering kiss that promised more to come. Lacing their fingers together, her lips curved up in a smile and her beautiful brown eyes sparkled as she added. "Tomorrow, we'll get your ring resized."

The End

* * *

_AN: This is already the longest chapter in the history of ever, but I can't end this story without saying _something. _Thank you to everyone who reviewed, favorited and followed this story along with sharing it on other sites and with other people. Your reviews kept me going when I felt like I'd bit off more than I could chew. Seriously. _

_Huge thanks to my beta for coming up with some of the best flashbacks and lines when I literally had no clue what I was going to do next. She's really my collaborator - even though she swears she's "just the beta."_

_I have a few ideas for more DE fic, but this version is done. I won't rule out the idea of returning for a one-shot or two if the muse strikes, but I think I've pretty much got Damon and Elena set for eternity. ;p_

_Thank you again, so, so much for sticking with me through SIW and DaCP. It's been SO much fun and even though I'm thrilled to be bringing this to a close, I'm really going to miss it. _


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